Ya Puede Besar al Novio
by EmmileneRosalina
Summary: Formerly "Ahora Podeis Besar al Novio": Spain loves Romano with every bit of his soul, but Romano is just so difficult, how can he get him to accept his love? Trials and tribulations and... where the hell did Italy go? Two months left of hiatus. 3/22/11
1. Bad Luck

**Takin' a break from difficult stories. Since I haven't written in so long, my skills are made of suck. Therefore, I practice on one of my new OTPs: Spain/S. Italy. This should have at least two chapters. Maybe three. Probably some lemon.**

**Fluffiness and blatant refusal of Prop 8 lie ahead. Turn around now if you want to live. Also, if you're going to flame, remember to do it **_**under**_** the marshmallows.**

**EDIT: It has come to my attention, in no small part due to an anonymous reviewer who pointed out that I, in summary, fucked up. In Spain, a person's full name is written in this order: Given name, Surname, Second name (middle name, etc.); whereas I had perceived it as it is in the United States: Given name, Second name, Surname.**

**  
In addition, this reviewer kindly pointed out that if a marriage between Antonio and Lovino **_**were**_** to occur, Lovino would stay Lovino Vargas and Antonio would also keep his own full name.**

Thank you so much; 'Some chick'. I will try to edit it to be more culturally correct.

**Also, thanks to Sweet-with-Talent who fixed some of my horrid Spanish. I dropped out of Spanish for Latin, so I never really learned the unit that contained certain verbs... Yet again, all I have is Babelfish and what little I know, so...**

**-----**

_Bad Luck_

-----

Lovino was a very unlucky country.

Although he was full of vigor, anger and energy, he was just as weak as his brother; a fact that severely pissed him off.

Japan had once rolled his eyes at him, calling him "_tsundere_"; "Whatever the fuck that means," Lovino had replied sourly. His backstabbing brother, too, had remarked that his bark was "worse than his bite". At least he didn't fraternize with potato-eating behemoths. But by comparison, he didn't really have it much better with Antonio, did he?

This bad luck is what brought him to this unfortunate situation, this awful predicament.

"But you join Russia in future, da?"

_Fucking_ bad luck.

"Maybe future like tomorrow or couple days, yes? You join Russia. Everybody one day join Russia."

Italy Romano had been walking home from the market, bitterly reminded of the happy-go-lucky moron who happened to be his landlord, when suddenly he tripped on a jutting cobblestone. The paper bag full of the tomatoes he had lovingly selected lay scattered on the ground, pulpy soldiers lost on the battle front between dinner and gravity.

Lovino had cried a bit, picking himself up off of the ground. He wiped himself off; apparently there was tomato underneath his chin. He doubled back to the market and picked out a new bag full; taking a different route home so as not to be tortured with the sight of his fallen comrades. By this time it had gotten dark, and he ducked under a streetlight on the way.

Unfortunately, Russia had spotted him and taken it upon himself to walk Romano home.

This brings us, yet again, to the present.

"Russia one day will conquer the world anyway, yes? So why not join now, then be master of other countries when world belong to Russia? South Italy become strong and powerful. You want, da?"

Ivan was a persistent bastard, and he was only a couple of blocks from home. Where was fucking Germany when he needed to hide behind him.

Then Lovino's luck took a turn for the better. A strong arm encircled his shoulders and an exotic, familiar voice calmly fixed the problem.

"I believe that this is my wife you are pestering, Ivan."

And there went his luck again. Lovino fought back the urge to kick Antonio, but the spicy-musk scent of home was so inviting compared to the overpowering alcoholic scent that had been trailing him for the past half hour... he let it pass with only an annoyed glare.

"Surely the husband smart enough to join Russia at least, da?"

Lovino redirected his glare. Antonio merely chuckled and ruffled his "wife's" hair a little bit, evoking a short intake of breath upon brushing his flyaway.

"_Sí, lo pensaré._ My _esposo_ and I will get back to you on that another day."

He flashed the childishly menacing country another dazzlingly white smile, earning excitement, thanks, and retreat.

They walked the rest of the way home that way, Antonio's arm firmly and comfortably looping around Lovino's shoulders. Lovino didn't question it.

"_Grazie_..."

Antonio squeezed his shoulder in response. After a long silence, Lovino continued.

"… _ma voi è ancora un idiota._"

Antonio laughed at the response, a melodic sound that rang through the mostly empty streets.

"I guess I am still an idiot. But that's okay, wifey~"

"I am NOT your wife."

Antonio rubbed the back of his head where he'd been hit.

"But you're so cute... and I like the sound of phrase '_ahora podeis besar a la novia_'... or is it '_al novio_'?" Spain puffed out his cheeks a bit in a mock pout.

"I am not and will never be your wife."

Lovino's tone was final. The pair walked on in a echoing quiet.

Antonio said something, but Lovino couldn't understand his muted voice.

"Hm?"

"I said, sleep with me."

-----

//_End Chapter 1_

-----

"_tsundere_"- a Japanese term used to describe a character or person who is outwardly violent and scary, but never seriously acts on his or her aggressive behavior. _Tsundere_ characters also have a tendency to turn into quivering piles of rose-scented mush around their true loves.

"_Sí, lo pensaré._ My _esposo_ and I will get back to you on that another day"- Spanglish for "Yes, I will think about it. **(EDIT: Thank you for pointing that out, Sweet-with-Talent!) **My husband and I will get back to you on that another day". The word "_esposo_" can mean "wife" if ending in an "_-a_", so Antonio is just preserving what little masculinity Lovino has.

"_Grazie... ma voi è ancora un idiota_"- Italian for "Thank you... but you are still an idiot". Take it for what it is.

"_ahora podeis besar a la novia_... _al novio_" – Spanish, "You may now kiss the bride", but if you substitute _a la novia_ for _al novio_, it becomes masculine.

**DUN DUN DUN. A bit unexpected? Perhaps. Definitely a little wtf. That's what I'm going for. Has my writing suffered? Was it ever good? Am I delusional? That's what I want to know. Please review, it's inspiring!**


	2. Victory Demands Suffering

**EDIT: This chapter has been edited slightly because, fuck, I'm not Spain, I can't use the first person! Lolz.**

**Hey, all! The title has been changed due to some problems which were addressed in the previous chapter, which has been edited. Not much has changed, trust me. Now, on with the story!**

--

"_I am not and will never be your wife." Lovino's tone was final, and Antonio huffed slightly. The pair walked on for a while in the thick quiet until Spain voiced his thoughts, almost silently. _

_"Hm?" Romano asked._

_Spain cleared his throat and locked vivid green eyes with Romano's. "I said, sleep with me."_

--

-----

_Victory Demands Suffering_

-----

Antonio watched as the Italian merely blinked at him, unsure if he'd heard correctly. _Surely_ he had not just heard "that idiot, Spain"; ask _him_, self-proclaimed Spain-hating ladies' man, to have _sexual intercourse_ with him. In his most serious voice.

"Maybe if you'd sleep with me, you could realize how much I care for you and you wouldn't be so objected to marriage; Lovi..."

He reached out a light olive hand to caress his affection's face, almost dreamlike until the smaller nation's eyes began reading of panic. Lovino flinched and backed up ever so slightly from the Spaniard's advances, looking much like a deer caught in headlights.

Suddenly, Antonio felt like this wasn't such a good idea. He wouldn't have even come if Russia hadn't mentioned Southern Italy becoming stronger.

It seemed selfish, but he wanted to keep Lovino under his wing for as long as possible. He didn't think he'd be able to wake up ever again if the Italian left him; both literally and figuratively.

"D-Did you just tell me to have sex with you?"

The Spaniard blinked at him, unsure as to how he should be responding. Then he nodded hesitantly, never removing his eyes from the shorter male's.

"You are such a-! _Vaffanculo_!" Lovino burst out, wrenching Antonio's arm from its perch around his shoulder and running the last couple of yards to the cozy house that they shared.

Antonio shook his head. Lovi hadn't changed much in the years that they'd lived together; ever since the smaller nation had been afraid of lightning and spiders in the rafters. The Spanish nation always knew what was going to happen.

Lovino would hole himself up in the room that he and Antonio _shared_, locking the door, eating the groceries he'd brought with him, and forcing the older nation, who after all of this time _still_ didn't have the foresight to have another key to his bedroom made, to sleep on the couch in the living room. Unfortunately, the living room was designed for air flow during hot Spanish summers, and the drafts at night often made the poor man sick.

He sighed and treaded into the house, leaving shoes at the door and retrieving a blanket from a chest of drawers, already cold and hungry in his own home.

--

The next day, Antonio woke up to Italian screaming, but not the kind he was used to. He trudged to the door and opened it, only to be attacked by the younger Italian.

"_Ve_, you're not my brother," Feliciano observed intelligently. Antonio groaned and rolled the younger brother off.

"No, I am not Lovino. And he won't be leaving his room for a while," the Spanish man added sullenly, brushing himself off as he stood.

"Why~? Did Spain do naughty things to my brother?"

Spain choked, and Germany determined it safe enough to permit himself entry. "We were _supposed_ to spend _siesta_ time with that coward today, but I guess if he's not coming out of his room, we should just leave."

"No, no, no! Ludwig, Antonio is all alone today; we have to spend _siesta_ time with him at least! I'll make lunch!" The pushy Italian ambled farther into the Spanish man's abode, presumably to make a mess of the kitchen. Ludwig eyed Antonio, who reciprocated with a dazzling smile.

"So we're having pasta today, I take it."

--

Over a lunch of _fettuccini_, Feliciano decided to get some answers.

"So, Antonio, why is Lovino locking himself in his room?"

And thus began the Spanish Inquisition.

--

Antonio explained his predicament to the two other countries; Ludwig staring out a window to hide his disinterest and Feliciano bobbing his head occasionally and asking minor questions.

"I didn't mean to scare him, you know? It just kind of... slipped out." Feliciano looked deep in thought, a visage that was downright scary on the silly character.

"Hm... my brother always acts like he's all that when he's with lady friends, but he's actually pretty shy... Lovi probably just freaked out when you asked him like that because he's a virgin still~"

Time stood still for a moment. Ludwig had turned back and was staring at Feliciano, as was Antonio. The younger Italian brother was smiling as though he hadn't just let spill one of a man's most precious secrets, and Antonio was inwardly relieved.

Not that it mattered. He would love Lovino to the ends of the earth, even if he was a frog without a curse.

While he pondered, Feliciano jumped up and headed to the door, Ludwig in tow. "_Siesta_'s over! We'll come by another time, Antonio! _Ciao_!"

Leaving Antonio alone in a house with Lovino. Oh dear.

--

"Lovino, please let me in? You always do this when you're angry at me... _es muy molesto_."

"I'm not letting you in. And I'm not marrying you. You know why? Because I like _girls_."

Antonio sighed exasperatedly. This had been going on for at least fifteen minutes now. He would apologize, beg to be let in; then Lovino would bring up something completely different and attack him with it.

"...are you gone yet?"

"No. I'm going outside and breaking in through the window."

"WHAT?!"

-----

//_End Chapter 2_

-----

"_Vaffanculo_!" – Italian, commonly translated as "Go fuck yourself". Ouch, Lovi. Ouch.

"_Ve_" – Unknown in origin, "_Ve_" is a sound commonly made by Northern Italy.

"_siesta_" – Italian/Spanish, a time of day when everybody drops everything and takes a nap, gets a snack, goes to the mall, etc.... the US of A seriously needs to consider this brilliant idea.

"_fettuccini_" – Italian, a kind of pasta.

"_Ciao!_" – Italian, "Goodbye!".

"..._es muy molesto_" – Spanish, "...it is very annoying."

**So there you have it. I know that it's very choppy. Oh well. This story will be longer than intended because it's too fun to write and because Lovino has so many obstacles to overcome before he can decide to loosen up a little... and then a lot more until he takes the final plunge.**

"_**Marriage?**_**" I hear you asking.**

"_**The OTHER final plunge," **_**I reply.**

"_**Ohhhhh,**_**" you remark.**

**Then you go to your e-mail and wait a day until there is a new chapter.**


	3. Over My Dead Body

**Here I am again, popping out chapters like Nadya Suleman pops out youngsters. I admit that what I know of Italian consists of Babelfish, and what I know of Spanish consists of three years of Spanish, Babelfish and a Spanish-to-English dictionary. There's no other way for people like me to get around, sadly.**

**I also recently received a review that said that my Spain was "sexy". I'm so happy right now that I think I need an oxygen mask or something before I "squee" myself to death.**

**Enjoy!**

--

"_...are you gone yet?" Lovino already knew the answer, but he was making a point._

_A pause. Then, "No. I'm going outside and breaking in through the window."_

_Lovino jumped back at the calm declaration. "WHAT?!"_

--

-----

_Over My Dead Body_

-----

Lovino was pissed.

No, scratch that. Lovino was _always_ pissed.

Lovino was _furious_.

"What kind of backwoods bastard breaks into his own house?! I'm going to fucking _poison_ you one of these days."

Make that livid.

"Lovino, it's my house, I'll break in if I want," Spain replied, brushing off his clothing.

"Spain, are you a freaking _retard_? I locked myself in here to keep you out, not to be trapped here with you!"

"Romano, give me my key." Lovino quieted. Antonio was using his country name. He grudgingly handed over the object, looking in a different direction to try and hide the annoyed pout adorning his face. Spain took it and unlocked the door, putting the key into his pocket and turning back to the simmering Italian.

"Lovino, I really do love you-"

"_No me interesso un cazzo_."

"-can you please just give me a chance?" That caught his attention. Spain, asking for something? His life just got stranger and stranger. Lovino looked back at the hopeful Spanish man. He could see the strain in his eyes; did this really mean that much to him?

"_Por favor_, Lovino... _solo una __opportunidad_."

Lovino looked away; these stupid _feelings_ were making him sick.

"Fine. _One_ chance. Then, when your dumb come-ons fail, you will leave me _alone_ and stop being such a jerk."

Lovino's heart wasn't in it, and Antonio simply beamed. He stepped forward and wrapped his arms around the small Italian. Antonio was warmer than Lovino thought he would be. Or maybe that was just the heat from his own face.

He pushed Spain off of him, gently but firmly. "Okay, okay, enough. You don't have to manhandle me."

Antonio stood back, smile on his face again. "You won't regret it, _chulo_."

Lovino smiled too, almost deviously. "Now, as for the rules..." The Italian pulled a cell phone from his pocket and dialed Ludwig's home phone number. As much as he hated the German, he _was _a stickler for rules, which was what he needed. The dial tone sounded a few times before it was picked up.

"_Hello, who's calling_?" The voice on the other end sounded a bit out of breath, and the sound was a bit fuzzy, but it was unmistakably Feliciano. Lovino was a little annoyed that his brother was there, but it was to be expected. Feliciano _did_ have bad taste, after all.

"It's me, Lovi. Spain and I made up; I need to talk to the potato bastard about the rules."

There was a small pause. Then, "_That's great! Ludwig and I will be over in a minute, okay! Ciao!_" Without letting his older brother get a word in edgewise, Feliciano had successfully invited himself over to Spain's house. His manners were impeccable.

Lovino pinched the bridge of his nose in aggravation.

"Who did you call, Lovi?" Antonio asked, genuinely curious.

Italy Romano opened his mouth to respond when the cell began ringing. He flipped it open, becoming more annoyed with each passing second. "What is it?"

"_Can we have pasta for lunch?_"

"No, we're not having pasta! What am I, your brother or your mother?!" Lovino closed and disconnected the phone, even more annoyed. He wished he had been using an older phone. It would have felt so much more satisfying to slam it down.

Spain chuckled, heading out of the bedroom door. "I'll go set up two extra place settings for our guests, then."

--

About thirty minutes later, Lovino found himself grumbling over a steamy pot of spaghetti, hair covered by a towel and wearing a stupid white apron that he had received as a birthday gift from Hungary years ago.

"I should have just told him to fuck off..." the Italian mumbled to nobody in particular.

"But, dear, then I wouldn't have gotten to see you in this adorable outfit~" Spain sang, hugging Lovino around the waist from behind.

Lovino just grumbled more loudly; and he blamed the flush on his face on the steam from the spaghetti.

--

By the time he had served everything up, Feliciano and Ludwig were at the door. He sent Spain to answer it while he disposed of his embarrassing ensemble. When he came back, Antonio and Feliciano were conversing animatedly while the German glared sourly at his spaghetti as though it had done him some personal injustice.

Lovino sat down next to Antonio. "What's wrong with _Signor Sole_?" he asked, taking in a big mouthful of spaghetti.

Feliciano smiled brightly. "Oh, he's just a little angry because you called when we were in the middle of having sex."

Lovino choked. Repeatedly. This could _not_ be happening.

-----

//_End Chapter 3_

-----

"_No me interesso un cazzo_" – Italian, "I don't give a damn."

"_Por favor_, Lovino... _solo una __opportunidad_." – Spanish, "Please, Lovino... just one chance." **(Yet again, thank you Sweet-With-Talent for your omnipotent knowledge of Spanish.)**

"_Ciao!_" – Italian, "Goodbye!"

"_chulo_" – Spanish, "cute".

"_Signor Sole_" – Italian, essentially "Mr. Sunshine".

**I hope you liked it. I know that you get this a lot, but please review. In other stories, a review can guilt trip the author into writing, but not me. I'll write regardless, but the quality of the chapter depends solely on the reviews I receive. I also try to respond to each review I get, so please don't be shy! I appreciate critiques; anything to make the story better! I mean, you'd rather I became awesome **_**before**_** the H-scenes, right? That's what I thought.**


	4. Dear Diary, FML

**Oh dear, I messed up. I think my writing high is wearing off. Somebody, write a Spain x Romano that I can read rather than write! My spark is dwindling! XxX**

**In case you haven't noticed, I've been switching points of view (POV) each chapter. Still 3****rd**** person, however, focusing more on one character's train of thought each time. The problem is, I started off this chapter with the intention of making it Antonio-centric, however when I wrote in a small comment regarding Lovino's thoughts on a matter, I suddenly switched and didn't realize it until I finished the chapter. I feel like a moron. I'm so sorry, everybody; I'll do an Antonio-centric chapter next time.**

**Also, you may notice a smaller amount than usual of Italian and Spanish. See, 'Sweet-With-Talent' lives in a Spanish-speaking country and has agreed to be my beta, however she has not yet returned my personal messages or established a DocX **

**connection with me; and I feel that my chapter-a-day timeframe must be honored, so instead I simply minimized the amount of Romantic language I used to what I knew was correct.**

**I'm sorry if this inconveniences you or makes your reading experience any less enjoyable.**

--

_Lovino sat down next to Antonio with an exasperated sigh. "What's wrong with Signor Sole?" he asked with disinterest, shoving an ungodly amount of spaghetti into his mouth._

_Feliciano smiled brighter than the sun. "Oh, he's just a little angry because you called when we were in the middle of having sex."_

_Antonio could hear Lovino choking next to him. This was not going to go very well._

--

-----

_Dear Diary, FML_

-----

After trying to calm Lovino down for almost twenty minutes, Antonio plopped down in his seat, exhausted. The Italian continued glaring at the German, positively seething. Feliciano was wondering aloud what "that was all about", and Ludwig's face must have been glued to the table, because he wasn't lifting it.

"So, uh..." Antonio struggled to ask for help in such a tense atmosphere. "Romano and I..."

"Made up, yes we did," Lovino finished, irritated beyond belief. "We didn't bring you here so that we could relive your sexual escapades with my _younger brother_, so let's move on to business, shall we?"

Ludwig sat up, apparently forcing himself to erase all signs of embarrassment off of his face. "Yes, let's get on to business."

--

After a devastatingly _slow _hour (to Lovino, at least), the terms were set. Spain would court him for two months. During that time, neither he nor Spain was allowed to flirt with or 'admire' ("Check-out", Feliciano had elaborated) another woman or man.

Spain had agreed enthusiastically, babbling some nonsense about not having looked at anybody like that since he'd "fallen in love with Lovino" anyway. Romano wasn't so sure about the terms.

After all, he _was_ a lady killer.

"Romano, you will accept these terms." It wasn't a question, and violent or not, Lovino was still a coward.

The Italian sank into his seat, arms crossed. "Fine..."

"Alright! This will start at midnight tonight," Feliciano chimed in, "and Lovino can't curse like a madman without a good reason! Even if he has a good reason, if he curses... Antonio gets to kiss him!"

Romano stared as his brother incredulously, then turned his attention back to Germany as he laid down the final rule.

"Lastly, he may not refuse any of Spain's advances unless they are violating something sacred, such as... virginity, etcetera..."

Lovino shot his brother a horrified look. "YOU TOLD HIM?!"

Feliciano smiled awkwardly and hid behind Ludwig. "So, those are the terms! _Ve_, Ludwig, I think it's time to go!"

He practically dragged the other nation with him.

--

When Romano went to sleep that night, he was grumbling about potato bastards and respect of privacy, a tomato-colored blush still adorning his cheeks. He rolled over and glared purposefully at the wall as Antonio settled himself across the room.

"So, Lovino, tomorrow is going to be a great day!"

Lovino snorted quietly, ignoring him. Tomorrow was _not_ going to be a great day. No longer could he flirt shamelessly with neighborhood girls, and with Spain able to get away with more... _flirting _than usual, he'd be forced to start wearing pajamas to bed.

Definitely a bad day in the making.

--

Lovino covered his face with his hands, desperately trying to block out the rest of the sunlight which had invaded his eyes. He sat up and stretched with a yawn, rubbing the back of his head sleepily.

_Hm... my alarm clock must have broken, I'd normally be awake by now..._

"_Buenos días_, Lovi!"

He blinked and turned to his side to see Spain with one of those stupid trays that timid housewives tended to have in sexist '70s television programs, loaded with some sort of... balanced breakfast. Oh, and he had an almost inhumanly happy face on.

_Oh my god, he's serious. Scopa._

Spain handed over the tray to a slightly disoriented Romano. "It's a tomato and cheese omelet, some toast..." There was more, but Lovino was too busy making sure that was on the tray was edible to pay attention. There was a reason why Lovi did all the cooking in the house. While Spain babbled on like a giddy schoolgirl, he cut a small piece of omelet with his fork and ate it.

_It could be worse..._

He swallowed and looked up at an expectant Spain. "Well..." Lovino started, "...they say that 'He who would eat in Spain must bring his kitchen along', but it's not half bad."

Spain smiled at the compliment, but then quirked his head. "Who says that about my country?" he queried, definitely curious. Lovino smirked.

"It's a German saying. I always knew they were stupid."

Lovi stuck his tongue out. They laughed. Maybe it wouldn't be such a bad day after all.

--

After his morning fog, Lovino regained his angst for reasons unknown.

Well, in truth, they were very obvious as they walked down the street together.

It was those _stupid_ neighborhood girls.

Batting their eyelashes, laughing in little clusters, whispering and giggling, making passes... wearing extremely short skirts, blowing kisses...

That was when their walk began to crumble to bits. Those stupid girls wouldn't stop making passes at Lovino, and he was going to go crazy because he couldn't respond.

Lovino pulled on his hair and said a strangled, "_Merda_". His eyes widened in realization of what he had just done. Antonio sighed and pulled Lovino flush against him, tilting his chin upward with a firm hand.

_Oh, god. What did I just do?!_

Antonio kissed him.

-----

//_End Chapter 4_

-----

"_Ve_" – Unknown in origin, a sound often made by Northern Italy.

"_Buenos días_" – Spanish, "Good morning".

"_Scopa_" – Italian, "Fuck".

"He who would eat in Spain must bring his kitchen along" – A German insult of Spain, directly translated from German to be as insulting as possible.

"_Merda_" – Italian, "Shit". Romano's got quite a mouth on him.

-------Q. Why did Antonio kiss Romano? That was UNEXPECTED WTF. 0.o'

-------**A. Feliciano's rule: If Romano curses, Spain must kiss him. Positive punishment, perhaps?**

**Alright, hope that wasn't TOO bad, considering how I gave you all of the chapter's faults at the **_**beginning**_** of the chapter rather than the **_**end**_** like I should have. -.-'**

**  
I'm dying, and reviews are the things that keep me alive... I will reply to every review I get, and I watch **_**Fullmetal Alchemist**_**, so I believe in equivalent exchange. The effort and quality put into the next chapter will amount to exactly the amount of effort and quality put into my reviews.**

**Until next time, **_**ciao!**_

6.) "_ciao_" – Italian, "Goodbye".


	5. Sparks Ignite

**This chapter has not been beta'ed, which I take full responsibility for. Hell, I couldn't find any drive for a long, long time. I was sitting around like... "Man, I should write this chapter..." but I COULDN'T DO IT. Then, it hit me.**

OH MY GOD. MAYBE I SHOULD WRITE THE CHAPTER.

**Just like that. My drive was back. XP**

**I couldn't send it to my beta, 'Sweet-With-Talent', because it was so late at night already, and I have deadlines for myself. Before midnight every night. EVERY NIGHT. I'm sorry again, my sweet, talented, understanding beta... *cries***

**  
This chapter is dedicated to my beloved Micc-hime, who brought me out of the shadows there were fat people blocking my sun.**

--

_Antonio made a bit of a growling sound in his throat. Those stupid girls were eying HIS Lovi, and that was simply not acceptable. Next to him, Lovino let out a strangled noise, and Antonio could hear a muffled 'Merda'. Italian. That was a curse, right? _

_Might as well stake my claim..._

_Antonio spun a stunned and wide-eyed Lovino around to face him, tilting his chin upward with a hand, leaning forward... and kissing him._

--

-----

_Sparks Ignite_

-----

A girl fainted on the street corner, but they weren't paying attention to _her_.

Of course, Antonio only kissed him on the forehead. Why would he do something to ruin Lovino's trust on the first day? Romano would curse again, it was, as Kiku sometimes called it, "_hitsuzen_". Spain pulled away from a flushing and stuttering Southern Italy, wrapping an arm around his shoulders again.

"_Vamos_, Lovi. I wouldn't want you to run into Ivan while you're standing there in awe of my kissing skills."

That brought Romano back, alright.

"Kissing skills?! _Assurdità_! You kiss like a golden retriever!"

Antonio smiled while Lovino verbally abused him. This was the way he liked it, anyway.

--

"No, no, no. Spain, you are an imbecile. Brown might be ripe for a stupid _potato_, but ripe _tomatoes_ are _red_. Or green, depending on the type..."

Lovino was lost in his own little world as he praised the loveliness and redness of the tomato, and the elegant paradox of the "Fruit or vegetable?" mystery surrounding it.

Spain chuckled and turned to the woman behind the counter. "I suppose we'll be buying the ones _he_'s selected, seeing as he's the expert."

--

"_Il buono, il brutto, il cattivo_?" What's that?" Antonio asked curiously, shifting a bag of groceries around in his arms to get a better look at the DVD Lovino was shoving into his face.

"It's a really popular movie in my country; I've wanted to see it for a really long time!" Romano bubbled, totally caught in Spain's "perfect date" trap like fly in a spider's web. That is, a really happy fly. Maybe a happy fly on marijuana.

"Well then, rent it! We can watch it tonight if you like."

--

Antonio made dinner while Lovino struggled to make the DVD player work. The Italian cursed blatantly, while Antonio pretended he didn't hear him. It was almost like Romano _wanted_ him to kiss the living daylights out of him. Not that Antonio would mind...

"Oi, Spain! Why won't this stupid thing work?"

"I wouldn't know, maybe the answer is in the tomato sauce? Or maybe the meatballs are really Magic 8 Meatballs and I'm cooking something with profound wisdom inside. Ask me a yes or no question, Lovi~!"

"...you overdid it with the teasing."

"_Lo siento_."

--

By the time they settled down (on _opposite_ sides of the couch, Lovino insisted) with their dinner, the television was already flashing with the beginning scenes of the movie, which was apparently about bounty hunters in the desert.

_...Lovi really doesn't have a single romantic bone in his body, does he? I mean, other than being of Roman-descent..._

Antonio snorted at the pun, and Lovino looked at him. "What's so funny?"

"Nothing you'd find funny, dearest Lovino!"

Italy Romano looked very skeptical. Antonio decided to change the subject.

"I really don't like that 'Tuco' guy..."

"The one that freaks me out is Blondie. How do you have that much honor? I'd much rather just curl up in a ball and be _safe_..."

"Awww... come into my arms, Lovino! You'll always be safe with me~!"

"G-Get off of me! Pervert!"

--

"How'd you enjoy dinner, _amor_?" Antonio trilled after the credits came to an end. He stood up and stretched. A lot. That had been a _long _movie.

Also, Lovino's head had "mysteriously" ended up in his lap, he swore up and down. He hadn't moved from his spot on the couch, honest to God.

Lovino rolled his eyes.

"Don't call me that. And it wasn't terrible."

"It wasn't too spicy, was it?"

Lovino waved it away with one hand, scooping up the plates with his opposite arm.

"No, no. It wasn't too spicy at all."

The Italian paused at the doorway to the kitchen, then leaned against the frame, turning back to look at the Spaniard with a faint grin.

"I think I like it that way. You know... _spicy_."

Antonio had never wanted to _pounce_ somebody so much as at that moment.

-----

//_End Chapter 5_

-----

"_hitsuzen_" – Japanese, a term referring to something akin to "fate" or "destiny". It's a little different, but negligibly so.

"_Vamos_" – Spanish, I think we all know what this means. "Let's go".

"_Assurdità_" – Italian, literally "Absurdity", but I like "Nonsense" better.

"_Il buono, il brutto, il cattivo_" – Italian, "The Good, The Bad and The Ugly".

-------This movie has been out in Italy since 1966. He's been waiting a LONG time. X3

"_Lo siento_" – Spanish, "I'm sorry" or "Apologies".

"_Amor_" – Spanish, "Love". D'awww. Spain, you romantic.

**Yet again, sorry for the update so late in the night. *bow* I'M DROWNING IN SUMMER-Y THINGS!**

By the way, I seem to now have a set of dedicated readers who check back every chapter.

**By that, I mean where my visitors once exceeded my hits, they're now pretty dead-even. So thanks for sticking with me, it means a lot! I love you guys.**

**Ohmygod. So many readers, so many countries... I just want to research you all. Hetalia is such an eye-opener to the greater world around you. I have people in Sweden and China, Spain, Italy... Canadians... GARSH, 8 VIEWS FROM JAPAN. MY LIFE IS COMPLETE.**

Hehe... same rules apply as usual. You review, I take some Red Bull and try to exceed your expectations. Oh, and I answer your review. Always. Scout's honor.


	6. The Serpent's Seduction

**Yet again, I have deprived myself of enough time to send this to my sweet beta, Sweet-With-Talent. I hope that she can find it in her heart to forgive me, eventually. **

**I think this is pretty long for a chapter of **_**Usted Puede Ahora Besar a el Novio**_**, so I hope it doesn't bore any of you. It was weird, in the beginning of the chapter I just wanted to get the timeline started; but towards the end, I couldn't make it slow down enough. –cries-**

**  
I fixed the coding in Chapter 5! YAAAAAY!!!**

**So I got in Hungary and Japan, too. Huzzah! Eventually I'll hit a dead end, but until then... I'm going for it.**

**This chapter is in protest of one of my close friends, who believes that slashing countries is strange and that my chapters are too short; like good books, my patience and summer vacation.**

**Enjoy!**

--

"_No, no. It wasn't too spicy at all."_

_Lovino paused against the doorway. Antonio was trying so hard to make him happy, after all. Maybe he could have a taste of the possibilities... but just a taste. He smirked as he spoke._

"_I think I like it that way. You know... spicy."_

--

-----

_The Serpent's Seduction_

-----

Lovino could hear Antonio shift around on the couch as he slid the dishes into the sink, turning on the hot water and letting it fill.

"Well then... er... _buenas noches_, I guess..." The Spaniard sounded weird.

Lovino didn't pause in washing the dishes, though. "Good night!" As Antonio ambled down the dark hallway to their bedroom, Lovino allowed a small grin to cross his face before turning back to the steaming suds.

_And the predator becomes the prey._

--

The night passed quickly for Lovino, who spent it thinking up ways in which he could lure the Spaniard over the edge. That encounter with the girls the previous day had proved something to him.

He had a weak constitution. He couldn't keep himself from wooing the ladies. Therefore, he was going to use his seduction to make it so that Spain couldn't keep his hands off of him. Eventually he would do something to break one of Germany's stupid rules, and the whole thing would be over.

Romano estimated that it would take about a week to break through the Spaniard's honor code. The idea of crushing Antonio's only chance at being with him wasn't at all cruel to Lovino.

After all, he only wanted to sleep with him, right?

--

For the next week, Lovino spent his days making hell for Spain. He offhandedly reminded Antonio that he was into girls at every turn, but not in such a way to break the rules.

At the same time, however, he also tried to do things to entice Antonio to break the rules. Just little things, but things that he could tell were wearing Spain's patience thin. For example, he would wait for the ice cream to melt before licking it up, and he deliberately would mess up his hair in the mornings so he looked as though he'd been "busy" the night before.

Antonio was suffering, and Lovino knew it. He was glad for it. This would be a synch.

--

"Thanks for letting me come over today, Elizaveta." Lovino forced a smile as he was let into the Hungarian girl's house. In truth, he was not at all grateful to be here. But Spain was making a house call to Japan's house because he was sick, and Romano couldn't exactly _intrude_, so he stayed at home... then he got bored, and it was either Hungary's house or be dragged over to the potato-loving bastard's house by his overly dramatic younger brother.

"Oh, it's no problem, Lovino! You know I love it when you or Feliciano stops by. It reminds me of the good old days..." While the Hungarian girl was lost in the past of her honeymoon, Romano was shivering from his past. This was the same woman that dressed him up in frilly aprons and made him wear flower crowns while he scrubbed her husband's house. She was a woman, and Austria's wife, so why _she_ could never clean it herself still confused the _shit_ out of him.

Elizaveta recovered from her trance and hastened him into kitchen. Ever since Austria had divorced her, Hungary had been making her home suited to her own tastes. It was a nice home, minimally decorative, but everything served its purpose. Lovino thought it was cozy. He was sat down at a table while the Hungarian woman hastened around in some cupboards for something to drink. Lovino simply stared out the window.

Hungary's garden was beautiful. It was flat and seemed to have been untended for a while. It had a sort of overgrown, lush feel to it; and Romano found himself lost even as his beverage was handed to him.

He took a sip as Elizaveta sat down, nose crinkling at the somewhat sweet flavor. He looked up questioningly at her, and she smiled. "It's _cseresznye palinka_. Cherry flavored." Lovino took another sip, still not sure about the taste. "So," the girl began casually, "you and Antonio are officially a couple now, right?"

Lovino scoffed. "I guess so. I wish we weren't... my stupid brother and his _pezzo di merda_ boyfriend basically screwed it up, though." Elizaveta tilted her head slightly, hands folded on the table.

"What do you mean, Lovi?" Hungary sounded genuinely curious, and Romano sighed, tracing the rim of the glass of _palinka_ that she had given him.

"It's kind of complicated," Lovino started, and then trailed off. "You see, at first, he only wanted me to sleep with him, so I was really pissed at him... then he started ranting and raving about loving me. I don't really know what to believe, so I'm trying to get Spain to break the rules that Germany set concerning his 'courtship' of me. I don't know what to do, Elizaveta..." The Italian ran a hand through his hair in aggravation while the Hungarian woman thought about it.

"Well, Lovi... I think maybe you should take Antonio seriously. I mean, I don't know what the rules are, but if you're deliberately trying to make him break them and he hasn't yet, then he's probably serious." Lovino nodded at this, it made sense; even if he didn't like it. "Also, he seemed pretty serious when he pulled you over in the street the other day... that was so cute."

The Italian stared at her, his face heating up. "Who told you about that?!"

Elizaveta simply sighed happily, resting her head in her hands with her elbows on the table. "Nobody told me about it... I was there. I got pictures, too..."

Lovino smacked himself in the forehead, then downed the rest of his drink; suddenly remembering that-

_Wait, did she say "Palinka"?_

-was alcoholic.

_Merda._

--

Elizaveta had forgotten how highly suggestible Lovino was once there was alcohol in his system. Especially with something as discreetly alcoholic as _palinka_, she could almost pretend they were young again.

"Hey, Lovino. Did you know that the sky is light blue because it's actually full of thousands and thousands of little butterflies with light blue wings?"

"Wow, really?"

As she remembered, _extremely_ suggestible.

--

Before she'd even really gotten started, the phone rang. Lovino was drawing tomatoes on a big pad of paper that Hungary had left over from when he and Feliciano were younger.

He was also, much to Elizaveta's delight, wearing a dress that she'd specifically picked out for him. The top half had long sleeves that ended in layers of white ruffle over each hand, and the bottom half was a full green skirt that trailed on the ground, but only a little bit. There was a big red ribbon tied around his stomach with a huge bow in the back.

_He looks like a Christmas present..._

Hungary was brought back to the real world by another ring of the telephone. She answered it quickly.

"Hello, Hungary here! Who is calling?" There was a sneeze on the other line.

"_Ah, konnichiwa, Elizaveta-san, it is Kiku. How are you doing today_?" It was Japan.

"Oh, well _konnichiwa_ to you too! I'm fine. Is there a reason why you called?" Hungary attempted to cradle the phone with her shoulder so she could watch Lovino muck about in girls' clothing.

"_Ah, yes. I have a question about relationship troubles..._" Elizaveta quirked a brow.

"You too? It's just everybody today. First Lovino, now you..."

"_Wait, Lovino-san is there_?" The Hungarian woman answered that yes, he was.

"_Can I send Antonio-san to your house to pick him up? He came over to wish me well because I was sick, but he just won't stop talking about Lovino-san..._"

Elizaveta's grin tripled in size.

"Of course you can send him over. In fact, tell him that Lovino's been asking for him."

"_H-Hai._" Kiku sneezed again. "_Thank you, Elizaveta-san._"

"Don't mention it." The Hungarian woman put the phone away with a smile.

If those two weren't going to get together peacefully on their own, she was going to make them.

-----

//_End Chapter 6_

-----

"_buenas noches_" – Spanish, "good night".

"_cseresznye palinka_" – Hungarian, lit. "cherry _palinka_". _Palinka_ is an alcoholic Hungarian drink made from fruits in the Hungarian Plains, etc., etc....

"_pezzo di merda_" – Italian, "piece of shit". Very harsh words from a very harsh critic.

"_Merda_" – Italian, "Shit". If only Spain could kiss him for cursing in his thoughts...

-------Q. What's up with the dress? And why did you describe it? I hate that in stories. DX

-------**A. Hungary dressed up both Italy's when they worked for Austria, when she and Austria lived together and were married. Three reasons I described it: I wanted to make Elizavita's fangirl syndrome more prominent; red, green and white are the colors of both the Hungarian and Italian flags; and the Christmas present analogy. X3**

"______-san_" – Japanese, "_-san_" is an honorific. I don't see why you would be reading anime/manga fanfiction if you didn't know that much already, though.

"_konnichiwa_" – Japanese, "hello" or "good afternoon". If Japan were answering the phone, it would be "_moshi moshi?_"

**I'd like to send a big thank you to my reviewers! You don't know how much of a pick-me-up it is to post a big, scary chapter at midnight and then to log into your e-mail the next morning and have almost 8 reviews. It makes me so happy I could cry. ;-;**

**Reviews will be fed to the authoress, increasing the size of her ego and her drive to write until her life points become zero.**

**Until next time!**


	7. Treading Softly

**¡**_**Hola**_**! In case you don't speak Spanish and have never been bombarded by the monstrosity that is **_**Dora the Explorer**_**, that's a hearty hello to all of you! Since most of you seemed to enjoy my last attempt at a longer chapter, I tried again this chapter. I think my spark is alive again, and my old writing spark from my **_**Fruits Basket**_** days is back too! However, this new 'longer chapter' policy could be a bit confusing, since I'll have to finish writing one chapter and then write the next one beginning directly afterward.**

**Plus, I have swim practice for me and my two sisters, a surplus of chores, two dogs and a rabbit, and a pending RP session with a friend.**

**FML.**

**Anyway, I hope you enjoy this new installment of **_**Usted Puede Ahora Besar al Novio**_**.**

**My Spanish teacher would be so proud that I wrote that correctly without actually checking the title on first... I know I am. –tears up-**

**  
Again, enjoy!**

--

"_Ah, yes. I have a question about relationship troubles..." Antonio rolled his eyes; that was his cue to leave. He bowed slightly to the Japanese man, whose eyes widened as he spoke to Elizaveta._

"_Wait, Lovino-san is there?" Spain paused in his bow, looking up to lock eyes with Kiku, who looked just as bewildered as he was._

"_Can I send Antonio-san to your house to pick him up? He came over to wish me well because I was sick, but he just won't stop talking about Lovino-san..." Antonio stuck his tongue out at Kiku and slid his shoes back on to leave._

--

-----

_Treading Softly_

-----

Spain liked to call his perception "selective". His ears chose to hear only what they wanted to hear, and his eyes skipped over things he would rather not see. For his eavesdropping on Kiku's conversation with Elizaveta, this ability was great. He heard all he needed to hear.

"Elizaveta-san", which meant Hungary.

"Wait, Lovino-san is there?" That meant his precious Lovino was with Hungary.

"Can I send Antonio-san to your house to pick him up?" That meant he was going to Hungary's house to pick up Lovino, and she was expecting him. That was all he needed to know before he shot out the door.

In this way, his selective perception was a godsend.

However, this past week, his selective perception had been absolute _Hell_.

Everywhere he turned, Lovino was there. Smiling, smirking, beckoning, _taunting_... a simple summoning gesture paired with an "Oi, Spain," seemed almost like he was seducing him. As though that gesture was a "come hither" rather than "get over here and buy my groceries".

It was driving him nuts.

If only he could see things for what they were for once with that cold detachment, like Kiku or Arthur.

The Spaniard sighed and looked up at the sky.

--

Antonio couldn't remember the last time he'd been to Elizaveta's house. He wasn't sure if he'd ever been there before. Maybe to pick up Lovino sometime in the past, but if he had it was a foggy memory, and the Hungarian woman had remodeled since then, he had heard.

He rapped on the door three times, feeling rather awkward standing there. Picking up a twenty-year-old from a strange woman's house. He heard a singsong voice call, "Coming!" and happy footsteps coming towards the wooden door.

"Antonio, good afternoon," Elizaveta greeted, making a hand motion to her side; which Antonio assumed to be her summoning Lovino, "and welcome to my humble abode! I believe that this little bundle of joy is yours?"

The Hungarian woman stepped aside for a moment.

What greeted him was a surprising sight. "Oh, Antonio! _Buon pomeriggio_!"

"G-Good afternoon to you too, Lovino."

Before him was Lovino, looking much like his younger brother: cross-dressing, happy and full of energy. Oh, and incessantly hugging him. Antonio couldn't breathe. He thought about prying the Italian off of him, but then decided against it. He had been wanting to hold Lovi like this for months.

He buried his face in the crook of Lovino's neck, wrapping his arms around him. He smelled warm and vaguely of tomatoes.

_If I have to put up with more hellish weeks like this one, it'll be worth it for just a few seconds of Heaven._

He thought he heard a woman sighing, but he wasn't really paying attention.

A few drops of water fell, and it began to rain. The Spaniard held his love close to him for a few moments longer, until the droplets were falling around them like a blanket.

Romano then, unexpectedly, dragged him inside to show him the pictures he drew. It was as though he was a child again, happy and non-discriminatory.

Antonio almost cried at the unfairness of it all.

--

That night, Spain couldn't sleep. Not knowing that the happy, excited, childish Romano that he had put to bed that night would wake up angry and possibly disgusted with him. He sat up against the headboard of his bed, looking out longingly at the rain as it beat against his window. A bright flash of lightning illuminated the inside of the room, and the accompanying thunder sounded moments later, sounding far off.

Antonio heard a movement next to his bed and turned to face it. Lovino, wrapped in a blanket, looking as though he were about to cry.

_He always did hate thunderstorms..._

And Spain moved over and made room, clutching the shivering mess through the stormy night.

--

Antonio had to make sure to get out of bed well before sunrise, when Lovino tended to wake up. Lovi had latched onto him in the middle of the night, and it was almost painful to pry his grasping fingers from his arm and sneak out from under the covers.

He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, changed into some clothes and moved Romano's alarm clock over to his own bed, then went into the other room to spend the remainder of the morning sleeping on the couch.

--

He awoke again, groaning, when a pillow landed on his face. He rolled over slightly and fell onto the floor, eyes slowly blinking awake.

Above him was a pensive Lovino, who was looking off to one side and biting on his lower lip.

"Oi, Spain..." Here it came; a colorful barrage of insults and curses... "_Mi dispiace_... I'm sorry, I'm so sorry..."

Had Lovino been crying? It almost looked like it now, as Spain struggled to stand up and comfort him.

"It's okay, Lovi... you didn't do anything wrong..."

"But I did do something wrong... I'll try harder, Spain; okay? I'm so sorry..."

Antonio tried to find words to make the shuddering Italian feel better, but he couldn't. Instead, he opted to just hold the other man closer and pray that he would be okay.

--

The rest of the day, things were pretty awkward. Lovino looked at the ground most of the time and wouldn't talk much. Antonio was a more than a little worried about him, to be completely honest. He spent most of his time trying to make Romano cheer up, which seemed to work a little bit after about an hour of failed attempts.

--

The next day seemed to go a lot smoother. Lovino seemed to lighten up a bit, and they went grocery shopping. After all, between Spain's midnight snacking and Lovino's constant consumption of all things plump, red and juicy; they had to go shopping quite often.

"Hey, Lovi. These tomatoes are okay, ¿_verdad_?" The Italian came over to inspect them.

"Mm-hm. But these ones are better," he added, handing over a couple to show Spain. "Remember to check the bottoms, too; they're easier to forget and they smash easily."

--

Around _siesta_ time, Lovino took a nap on the couch while Antonio read a book of poetry. They seemed to have fallen into an easy sort of rhythm, and Spain found it much easier to be around Romano than last week. Whatever delusions he believed he had been suffering from last week (caused by Lovino's flirtatious attempts to confuse him) had quieted, and it was much more peaceful in the Spaniard's house.

"It feels nice... _intimidad_..." Antonio said to nobody in particular. He then smiled to himself and stood up, closing his book and placing it on the table. He ruffled Lovino's hair, hearing him mumble and turn a little bit, then picked up both of their plates to take to the kitchen.

"Don't go..." It was Lovino, he sounded as though he wasn't completely awake yet. Antonio stopped in his tracks, and then laughed softly.

"Lovi, I'll be right back. I'm just putting the dishes away..." He turned to leave, but felt a tug from behind.

He looked back. Lovino was rubbing sleep out of his eyes with one hand, and the other was clutching the back of Antonio's shirt.

"Antonio... please don't go yet?"

Antonio's heart slowed, and everything melted away until it was just him, Lovino and those four exposing words hanging in an otherwise silent moment.

"...stay with me?"

Antonio rapidly put the plates on the table and sat gingerly on the edge of the couch next to the still drowsy Lovino. He hugged him delicately, ignoring the slight burn in his muscles from the awkwardness of his positioning.

"As long as you'll have me, Lovino."

-----

//_End Chapter 7_

-----

"______-san_" – Japanese, an honorific. Has also been translated as prefix "Mr.", "Mrs." or "Ms.".

"_Buon pomeriggio_!" – Italian, "Good afternoon!"

"_Mi dispiace_" – Italian, "I'm sorry". A more direct translation exists, but it's ugly. **D:**

"¿_verdad_?" – Spanish, "right?" as in "correct", not as in left and right, which is "_la derecha_", if my knowledge is enough to go by.

"_siesta_" – Spanish/Italian, a time of day after lunch in which everybody drops everything and just takes a nap, etc.

"_intimidad_" – Spanish, "intimacy". NOT "intimidating". Gosh.

**Hope you liked it as much as I like writing it! Boy oh boy, though; that line at the end was kind of hard to come up with. I mean, not really, but the **_**exact**_** wording was more difficult to place than it might seem.**

**Is it already Chapter 7? Wow, I've come far. Only a week ago, I was a (practically) unknown in FanFiction, and now a 7-day story has surpassed all of my other stories combined.**

**  
Well, in relativity, of course. Anyway, I hope you all know that whenever I'm down, your reviews make me really happy. I'm not just saying that; the reviews I get **_**literally**_** make me hug myself or squee in joy while I'm reading them. You guys are so nice! I love you all!**

**ALSO! Two things to "anonymous reviewers".**

**Roman, I know that you're too lazy to log in, but could you at least do it so I can smack some sense into your brain? HUNGARY IS NOT ACTING LIKE ME. If she were acting like me, she would have pounced on Spain and Lovino the second she saw them walking down that street together.**

**And Ferix? GET AN ACCOUNT. I MUST be able to respond to your kind reviews.**

**Srsly. I'm so happy when I get anonymous reviews (they're like regular reviews, but anonymous. OOOOoooOOOOoooooOOO!!!), but then I get so aggravated because I feel like I MUST RESPOND and I can't. T_T**

_**Ciao**_**! Which, in Italian, means "Good bye". See you next time!**


	8. Taking the Plunge

**I wish I had a more appealing and sporty excuse, but I'm no liar, so here goes.**

**Well, whilst dancing around in the high I got from reading a particularly beautiful review (seriously, this was like the **_**Harry Potter**_** of reviews, notevenkidding), I managed to smack my right hand so badly that it now has to be wrapped in gauze.**

**Yeah, **_**dancing**_**. I said it. So, basically, typing this chapter up at eleven thirty at night with a bunch of pressure and a bandaged hand made me feel like shit, so the chapter is short.**

**Don't worry, I'll OD on pain killers tomorrow and write you a REAL chapter, I promise. Please don't drop me because of this one chapter.**

**I hope you love reading this installment of **_**Usted Puede Ahora Besar a el Novio**_** as much as I loathed writing it.**

--

"_...stay with me?" His eyes widened and he buried his head in the arm of the couch, face burning. What had possessed him...? He froze as he heard a faint tap on the table next to him and felt the couch dip close to him, and arms encircled him._

"_As long as you'll have me, Lovino." He decided at that moment that this had to end, and soon. _

_Before one of them walked away from this with nothing but a broken heart._

--

-----

_Taking the Plunge_

-----

Lovino was more than a little shaken by this complete and unshakable devotion that Antonio continued to show him each day. To be honest, it scared him to bits. The littlest things like grocery shopping and cooking which had once been safe havens for the Italian had been invaded totally by the Spaniard. Actually, he found himself feeling as though there was something _missing_ these days; that is, whenever Antonio was busy and he had to go about these activities alone.

Romano had the sinking suspicion that his allowing _whatever_ this was to continue was making him utterly dependant on Spain. His presence, his laugh, his voice, his touch. Any of these on their own was enough to make Lovino tremble with apprehension, and he was almost addicted to the jolt of adrenaline he experienced whenever Antonio came within a foot of him.

He was going to be swallowed up by Spain, and he wouldn't mind it a bit. Therein lay his greatest fear.

Lovino wanted to continue being who he was. He didn't want to fall in love; though that damage may have, he hated to admit, already have been done. It wasn't that Romano didn't love Spain, he was just afraid of being so overtaken by his obsession that he would cease to be who he was now. When he had taken Hungary's advice and decided to analyze Antonio's actions from a third-point perspective, he was surprised to find him less manipulative than he had made him out to be.

Of course, he tried to make up for that by meeting Spain halfway, but even reacting more softly towards the other was, ironically, one of the hardest things he had ever tried.

He needed to get away, or he would seal his own fate; even if it might hurt to leave.

--

They met at the crossroads of life, or in this case, the junction between Sakura Boulevard and Confusione Avenue.

"Japan," Romano acknowledged with disinterest.

"Romano-san," Japan replied with an equal amount of enthusiasm.

The two simply stared at each other for a few moments, standing still on the sidewalk, facing each other. Neither man knew why this chance meeting seemed so... important. Neither man knew how this encounter would change Lovino's life. Neither man noticed the old woman in the wheelchair trying to wheel herself the fuck around the obstacle they presented in her perilous journey from the cinema to her household.

No, Destiny itself did not seem to understand why this meeting between countries was so important; and it seemed to pause to think for a moment. It pondered and pondered; precious seconds well-spent in the constantly dwindling life of the Universe. Precious moments in which the world of two men stood still.

Then, Inspiration struck, and Destiny gave this meeting a purpose.

Time started again.

The two countries stepped to the side, allowing the cursing woman to make her way home. Kiku produced a cell phone from his pocket.

"Romano-san, in order to protect my hearing from your obvious desire to talk my ear off about your relationship problems with Spain-san, I will redirect you to a close friend of mine who is much better at being patient with people than I am."

Kiku dialed a number and spoke to the recipient for a minute or so, then nodded and closed the phone.

"Right. He is expecting you, so you can go over at any time."

"_Grazie_..." Lovino muttered offhandedly, trying to feign ingratitude.

--

Once Romano had arrived at the large, Oriental house belonging to China, he began to have second thoughts. After all, Kiku saw no use for him; why should Wang Yao?

"Ah, Lovino, you're here, aru!"

When had the door opened?

Ah, well. It's not like he could go back to _Spain_ without an answer after coming this far.

--

After a very long visit (including a _very_ detailed explanation of "the problem, aru" and his stupid... _feelings_; both specifically requested by China), Romano was very tired of his host's energetic informality.

Also, his speech tic was grating on his last nerve.

"So, Lovino-_xián_; I think it would be safe to diagnose you with a simple case of fear of intimacy, aru."

Scratch that, _now_ the speech tic was grating on his last nerve.

"Well, China, what do you suppose I should do about that?" Lovino asked with a hint of annoyance in his voice.

Wang Yao smiled, unperturbed by the tone of voice used against him.

"Simple; be yourself, aru." When Lovino looked at him in slight disbelief at the Disney-like fairytale quality of the answer he'd been given, the Chinese man simply locked eyes with him.

Eyes that contained more wisdom than a mere four thousand years could ever hope to cover.

"Only when you have found yourself may you then find yourself happy with another, aru."

And suddenly, Lovino understood.

--

"What are you doing?" Spain asked curiously, ambling over to the table in the kitchen usually reserved for breakfast, lunch, dinner and the occasional (though increasingly frequent) phenomenon where either became so aggravated with themselves that they felt the need to slam their head on a hard surface.

"Finding myself," Romano replied simply. It was _siesta_ time, and he wasn't asleep. Rather, he was painting a picture of what appeared to be... Antonio?

"Finding yourself... by painting me?" The Spaniard quirked an eyebrow.

Lovino bristled defensively. "No, not you! It's a monkey. A really stupid, cocky, romantic monkey."

"'Romantic', you say?" Suddenly Antonio was looming much closer than he had been before, tracing a strong finger along the underside of Lovino's chin, making the Italian close his eyes and shudder in apprehension.

"N-No. I didn't say that. When did I say that?" Romano attempted to cover his mistake.

"Right after 'stupid' and 'cocky', _amor_," Antonio continued, increasingly less teasing.

"So what if I did? It was... I lied, okay? It just slipped out!" Lovino tried. A desperate attempt to keep himself afloat in this sea of... what? Fear? What had this become, anyway?

"Wrong, my dear. Lies don't slip," Antonio practically purred. "Secrets do."

As the Spaniard leaned closer and closer, Lovino swallowed.

"_Merda_."

Then he took the initiative, kissing the Spaniard himself.

Lovino would be _damned_ if "fear of intimacy" was what would keep him away from _this_.

-----

//_End Chapter 8_

-----

"_Sakura_" – Japanese, "Cherry Blossom".

"_Confusione_" – Italian, "confusion". If you couldn't figure this out, you're dense.

"______-san_" – Japanese, an honorific often translated as "Mr.", "Mrs." or "Ms.".

"_Grazie_" – Italian, "Thank you".

"aru" – Japanese, inflection. Doesn't really mean much, but China always includes an "aru" when he speaks.

"_xián_" – Chinese, honorific. It means something along the lines of "valiant young man"; used for one who is younger than the speaker.

"_amor_" – Spanish, "love".

"_Merda_" – Italian, "Shit".

**Yet again, I apologize for the late and short chapter. If I had it my way, I would abandon my life, injury and spend all day writing for you guys.**

**Funny how my shortest chapters have the most foreign language and plot, huh?**

I won't ask you to review, this time I don't really deserve any... This is shorter than Chapter 1.

**-cries about her dumb hand-**

**THIS TOOK TWICE AS LONG TO WRITE AS USUAL! ;-;**


	9. Omake 1: China x Japan

**Sorry to leave you all hanging, but this was sort of a necessary test for me as an authoress for all of the following qualities-**

**A. Can I write from other characters' points of view?**

**B. Can I write the content leading up to what should be an explicit scene?**

**C. Can I write a kiss well without making my readers throw up?**

**I think I did fairly well... plus, China and Japan need more love, and once I started writing, I couldn't stop. It was easier to write, considering the fact that I know so much fangirl Japanese that writing in another language was hardly a difficulty.**

**  
oTL**

**Anyway, I hope you don't abandon me for this chapter, and yes, my hand is much better now! Thank you for your concern, everybody!**

**Takes place somewhere between Chapter 8 and the not-yet-written Chapter 9.**

**Enjoy!**

_**A/N: Every time I write "Wang Yao", I find myself writing "I want Yaoi". Force of habit? DX**_

-----

_Omake 1: China x Japan_

-----

"_Konnichiwa_, China-san. Did you encounter any difficulty when dealing with Romano-san?"

Japan ignored Romano as the other passed him by on the steps leading up to the oriental mansion, Lovino scoffing at his blatant disregard of his presence. He'd heard the last couple of words as they'd left China's mouth.

_Find yourself, he said..._

China smiled widely. "Kiku! _Ni-hao_! I've missed you, aru," the older nation teased with a wink, taking no notice of the faint pink blush now tainting the pale skin of Japan's cheeks. "Won't you come in, aru?"

"Ah... I have places to be, but..." he trailed off as China looked at him expectantly.

Waiting.

Kiku's excuse died in his throat. He couldn't turn down the invitation.

"I... I suppose they can wait," the younger man said, the blatant procrastination tasting foreign on his tongue.

China's pensive expression melted off of his face to be replaced with bright enthusiasm.

"Well, come in already, aru!"The older nation practically demanded it of him, grabbing Kiku by the arm and wrenching him indoors. The last thing he saw before he was dragged in was a pitying glance from Romano before the doors swung shut, silent on their hinges. "I was just about to make some tea, so it's nice to have some company for once, aru!"

The Japanese man knelt as the Chinaman flitted from topic to topic in such a way that Kiku was able to respond politely without much more than single-syllable responses.

Just the way he liked it.

--

As the _oolong_ was poured, China began his query.

"So, did that medicine I gave you help you feel better, aru?" Japan could hear the concern lacing the question and smiled faintly, the faint quirk of his mouth almost unnoticeable to the casual bystander.

"Actually, yes, it did. I only became ill a couple of days ago, but I've been recovering rapidly since you gave me that medication. I'm almost completely well again."

"_Aiyeh_, don't cough on me, aru," Wang Yao teased, reveling in the pink flush returning to Kiku's face.

"I wasn't going to..." Kiku almost sounded as though he was a child again, pouting like that. The elder's eyes lowered with a soft smile and he took a sip of tea.

Japan mirrored the action as China changed topics easily. "So, it seems that Spain and Romano are going through the same troubles we first had, aru."

Kiku made a sound in his throat that might have been considered rude had he not been a man of few words.

"_Sumimasen_, it burned my throat a little bit," Japan apologized. China simply waved it off.

"It's not uncommon to have struggles in the beginning of a relationship, though," Kiku commented after a moment, receiving a nod from China in response. "It's perfectly normal to have doubts, especially when the other person is serious. It wouldn't surprise me at all if Romano considered Spain raising him only to fall in love with him as serious an offense as child grooming in this modern world."

"Child grooming was awful, aru. It always made me feel uncomfortable, aru," China responded, sipping his tea again. He had forgotten to sweeten it, but it was too late now.

"Hypocrite," Japan accused openly, taking a sip as well. He'd forgotten to add sugar as well, and the tea was much less mellow than he was used to. China simply grinned at the jab.

"That's not what you say in bed, aru." Accompanying this statement was a pair of suggestively raised eyebrows, and Kiku thought he might just die.

"I thought being perverted was Im Yun Soo's mode of operation," the younger managed to reply, covering his blushing face by sipping his tea and letting his bangs fall over his eyes.

"Who is the hypocrite now, aru? This coming from the nation that invented tentacle-"

Kiku's brain refused to process every word after "tentacle", recovering in time to catch the "aru" at the end.

"What a low blow, China. I thought you were better than that," Kiku said smoothly, in complete contrast to his prickling nerves. He was smart enough to know where this conversation was heading.

"Maybe I am, maybe I'm not, aru," Wang Yao replied using a voice with the same silken inflections, though a decibel huskier than the former. He leaned forward slightly, supporting himself with his arms and locking eyes with the other man. "But you'd have me either way, wouldn't you, aru?"

Kiku's throat was suddenly dry, and he swallowed what was left of his tea before meeting the older nation's eyes again. "When you put it that way... of course I would." He placed the empty cup to his side and boosted himself up on his arms as well, challenging his senior with his eyes. Wang Yao simply grinned, eyes lowered lustily and they leaned forward in unison.

Their lips and tongues remained locked in an even battle all the way to the bedroom, the pretense of a friendly afternoon tea forgotten long ago, an ancient history left to collect dust in the foyer.

--

"_Kuso_... I'm going to have to make so many phone calls to make up for this," Kiku said quietly, straightening himself with a minute wince. Wang Yao laughed outright.

"Don't worry, I'll explain it to them, aru. 'I'm sorry that Kiku couldn't make it to your meeting, aru. He was having a lot of difficulty walking, aru.'" The Chinese man easily dodged the tired shove that Kiku aimed at him, moving in on the rebound to hold him securely in his arms. The slighter of the two simply sighed and gave up, leaning back into the embrace as he was basically cuddled as though he were a stuffed panda bear.

Wang Yao said something softly, though it was muffled by the contact between his mouth and Kiku's neck. "Hm?" Japan questioned, not much louder than a breath.

"...just... I love you; don't forget that, aru..." Wang Yao said softly, and had Kiku not been listening carefully, he mightn't have heard it. Instead, Kiku smiled and turned to capture his lover's lips in a reassuring kiss.

His expression when the embrace was broken for air was peaceful. "I love you too, okay? I won't forget."

They lay there in a comfortable silence for a while longer, and for a moment, the toils of everyday life seemed a world away.

--

"...China?" Japan asked tentatively, unsure if the other was asleep or merely lounging on the bed.

"...aru...?" came the somewhat sleepy response.

"I'm sorry if I woke you, _anou_... _eto_... do you know where I left my _kimono_?" Kiku's face was as red as the rising sun adorning his flag.

"Couch in the living room, aru... there's also a blue one in my closet from last time, if you want that one back, aru..." Half-asleep, Wang Yao was less prone to teasing; and for that fact, Kiku was immensely grateful.

"Ah... _domo_..." He dipped in a quick bow before realizing that with his Wang Yao's eyes closed, the action was meaningless. Feeling more flustered without the Chinese man's taunts than he would have felt with them, he scurried out of the room quickly.

"...you're so cute, aru..." Wang Yao soliloquized, a smile pushing the edges of his otherwise unmoving lips.

Around the corner and pressed up against a wall, Kiku smiled.

Then he went to find his _kimono_.

-----

//_End Omake 1_

-----

"_Omake_" – Japanese, similar to the English word "outtake" or a cutscene.

"_Konnichiwa_" – Japanese, "Hello", "Good afternoon".

"______-san_" – Japanese, an honorific that is generally translated "Mr.", "Mrs." or "Ms.".

"_Ni-hao_" – Chinese, "Hello".

"aru" – Japanese, inflection. China ends most (if not all) of his sentences with this.

"_Aiyeh_" – Chinese, signals distress. Comparable to the English, "Oh, dear" or better yet, to the American adaption "AAAAAHHHHH" when used in such instances as receiving a horrible report card, falling from a very high location or being eaten alive by the living dead.

"_oolong_" – Chinese, a kind of tea; black, if my memory serves correctly.

"_Sumimasen_" – Japanese, "I'm sorry".

-------Child Grooming – The despicable act of rearing a child from a young age with the full intention of one day courting, marrying or having sexual intercourse with him or her.

_Example: See "marking" as done by the Quileute tribe in Stephanie Meyers' 'Twilight'_.

"_Kuso_" – Japanese, "Damn". Such a dirty mouth, Japan. Tsk, tsk, tsk!

"..._anou_..._ eto_..." – Japanese, "...um... er...".

"_kimono_" – Japanese, traditional Japanese dress usually made of silk or cotton and worn by both male and female members of the population.

"_domo_" – Japanese, "thank you".

"soliloquized" – English, "said to himself". One of my favorite words.

"_Twilight_" – English, the most misogynistic, seizure-inducing and altogether _useless_ book ever to become a best-seller. I advise against indulging in its contents.

"misogynistic" – English, "anti-feminist", often used to describe members of the male species who hate women because they couldn't get a date growing up, are jealous of our boobilicious bodies, or are whipped by their wives.

**...I had a lot of fun writing the definitions for this chapter. Oh, me and my England-reminiscent cynicism...**

**I hope you noticed that I took the word "aru" out of italics. I did so for your and my own eyes alike. It looks better as a regular word than a "OMG A DFRNT LANGYWAGE" word.**

**  
I'll shortly be editing out the italics in Chapter 8, so if it hurt your eyes before, you can read it again safely without a trip to the optometrist's office.**

**Now that I've got my kick back, I think I'm ready to get back into Spain x Romano! What do you say? Let's go Review Rangers!**

**ASSEMBLE!**


	10. You Must Be This Tall

**I'm not fit to write this anymore... somebody else take over. Stop the ride, I wanna get off!**

**I used a couple of amusement park references, and if any of you laugh because of your dirty, soiled minds at the wording, I will hunt you down and rip out your larynx.**

**With a ballpoint pen.**

**  
I'm sorry for the drop in quality; I just spent 15 hours of my day watching Star Trek and related media (no thanks to my dumb parents), came home at midnight just to write this chapter for you guys; and, what do you know, I go to the bathroom and when I come back, my ex-Catholic FATHER is reading the almost explicit male-on-male content of Chapter 9, **_**Usted Puede Ahora Besar al Novio**_**.**

**FML.**

--

"_Wrong, my dear. Lies don't slip," he responded silkily to Lovino's excuse, voice lowering as he spoke. "Secrets do." He leaned in closer, intent on setting the mood and pulling away, just to tease him. Spain heard Romano swallow and curse; then the most unexpected thing happened.  
_

"_Merda."_

_Antonio's eyes widened as the Italian's hands grabbed at his shirt and pulled him into a kiss._

--

-----

_You Must Be This Tall_

-----

It was more of a clumsy mashing of lips, but that was just fine to Antonio. It was more than enough.

It was perfect.

His arms found purchase around Lovino's waist, pulling him upward as he responded eagerly to the smaller man's advances. Antonio kept pace with Lovi, never attempting to continue on until the Italian was ready.

And Lovino was more than ready.

Spain let out a low moan of surprise as Romano's tongue lapped at his upper lip, and he opened up to allow him entrance. They continued in this pattern for a few more moments before Lovino broke for air.

Antonio gazed at Lovino in a trance, his face flushed, hair mussed, eyes dancing as he panted for breath.

"I love you." Spain didn't feel a trace of remorse as Romano visibly stiffened at the claim. This could crumble their relationship, but he was willing to risk it.

It needed to be said.

After Lovino searched Antonio's eyes for a terrifying moment, and then the Italian's posture finally relaxed. The Spaniard felt the hands on his shirt leave, replaced with arms around him.

"I know, bastard."

Lovino's lips searched out his own again, this time softer, curious. The purpose of this kiss was to explore rather than to conquer, Antonio noticed. This time, the Spanish man made the first move to deepen the kiss, running the tip of his tongue along the bottom of Lovino's upper lip; and he was permitted entrance without much resistance.

The Spaniard tilted his head slightly to accommodate, and the Italian gripped the back of his shirt, eyes closed gently. One of Antonio's hands found its way to Lovino's head, and his fingers sifted through his hair, brushing against the flyaway strand and making the other moan lightly.

"You two are so cute." The pair jumped in surprise, then turned their heads and stared. Dumbstruck.

At Feliciano.

--

After the two untangled their limbs from each other (Lovino making a huge spectacle of Antonio being unable to keep his hands to himself, of course; and Antonio simply shrugging and acting as though it was true), they settled down at the table as Feliciano chatted about everything _but_ their blossoming relationship.

Spain sat as far away from Romano as the table would allow, and the other nation followed suit.

"So, Feliciano... I don't remember opening the door for you. How did you get in?" Spain asked, breaking the one-sided conversation about a pasta convention that Italy was holding.

"Oh, I assumed that you two probably couldn't hear me after I knocked a couple of times, so I just let myself in."

Antonio struggled to smile. "Really? That's... nice. _Donde esta_ Ludwig?"

"He had a meeting with Japan today about something. _Ve_, you two seemed really intimate today. Have you done it yet?"

If Antonio wasn't such a loveable guy, he probably would have dropkicked Feliciano out into the streets, preferably to be found and harassed by Ivan. However, since he _was_ a nice guy, he didn't. Instead, he did something which some would consider far worse.

"Actually, I heard that Japan was planning on asking Germany to go out with him soon. But you and Ludwig are official, right? I mean, Germany is pretty loyal, I guess..."

False accusations and rumors were dirty tricks, but they did their job. Romano looked up at him in wonder.

Feliciano's eyes widened and he stood up, hands on the table. "That _puttana_! I knew he was up to something!."

The younger Italian brother was gone in the blink of an eye.

Antonio felt Lovino rubbing against his arm; yet again, having moved over from a place where he had no contact with Spain whatsoever.

"I think this might actually work, Antonio," the Italian practically gushed, gazing up at his elder with newfound respect.

"Well, that's what I'm going for."

--

"Are these tomatoes okay, Lovi?" Spain asked.

"I trust you," Romano responded, not even looking away from the other shopkeepers.

This was definitely progress.

--

The weeks moved on, and Lovino was a roller coaster that Antonio, frankly, wasn't sure he was tall enough to ride. Some days, he'd do nothing but paint and demand utter silence. Other days he spent cursing out everybody around him; Germany, Spain, his own brother.

Then there were the few days that were peaceful. A nice _siesta_, a kiss, a playful nudge or mock argument.

Those were the days that kept Antonio waking up with a smile on his face, ready to bear with the next climb and descent.

--

"Hey, Lovi." The question wasn't really important, but it was bothering Antonio. It would be four weeks tomorrow, and soon Lovino would be able to break it off with him whenever he wanted to.

"Hm...?" The sleepy Italian lifted his head slightly, still resting on the couch during their _siesta_, as usual.

"Do you still prefer girls to guys?"

This was _important_, Spain reasoned with himself.

Lovino was quiet for a moment.

"I'm not really sure anymore. I think that yes, I prefer women to men."

Antonio felt a little heavier.

"But in your case, I'll make an exception."

-----

//_End Chapter 9_

-----

"_Merda_" – Italian, "shit". Thought you'd know this by now.

"_Donde esta_" – Spanish, "Where is ____?".

"_Ve_" – Unknown in origin, "_Ve_" is something often said by Northern Italy.

"_puttana_" – Italian, "whore". Whoa, Feliciano?! SRSLY?!

**There wasn't much I could write about this time. I don't know, I seem to have simply lost my spark again... it could take years before I get it back. ;-;**

**I really liked writing this story for you guys, but I don't want to be feeding you low-quality crap, so if I have to end it here, for your sake, I will.**

**If this is my last A/N, thank you for staying with me this long. You mean the world to me.**


	11. My Treasure

**I'm in a great mood. Thank you all so much for your concerns, but I think whether or not my spark is back will be displayed in this chapter. What do you think? Is it back? **

**Also, some of you wanted to know how my father responded to the kissing scene in the last chapter. He literally locked eyes with me and said this-**

"**Mashing of lips - this is highly inappropriate."**

**I don't remember how I made him go away. XD Anyway, I hope you enjoy Chapter 10 of **_**Usted Puede Ahora Besar al Novio**_**.**

--

"_Do you still prefer girls to guys?" Spain asked, out of the blue. Romano thought about it for a minute. Did he still prefer women? He chose his reply carefully._

"_I'm not really sure anymore. I think that yes, I prefer women to men." He could almost see Antonio's shoulders droop in his mind's eye.  
_

"_But in your case, I'll make an exception," Lovino said quietly, after a moment of silence._

--

-----

_My Treasure_

-----

The warm, spicy scent of Spain descended on his senses; still dull from his sleepiness, but he really did appreciate the hug that Antonio gave him, along with the chaste kiss to his neck. Lovino settled himself, wriggling around a little underneath the other.

"_Te amo_, Lovino," the Spanish man said softly after a moment.

A hint of a smile tugged at the corners of Lovino's sleepy mouth.

"I know."

--

Lovino spent more and more _siestas_ like that, and about a week or so later, Antonio began sitting on the couch as Lovi slept, choosing to read there rather than sitting in his armchair as he used to. The Italian couldn't deny that he was grateful for the extra body heat.

Most days, Romano would lie on the couch as Spain ambled over with a tome of his choice. He would close his eyes drowsily, and he could faintly hear Antonio crooning sweet nothings in Spanish before he would simply drift off.

Sometimes, Romano would just collapse onto the couch after a particularly exhausting morning. On these days, the Italian fell asleep before Spain had even chosen the book he would read during their _siesta_.

But other times, Lovino pretended he was asleep, just listening to Antonio's gentle breathing pattern as he quietly turned page after page.

Though he would never admit it, Lovino liked those days the best.

--

During one such _siesta_, there came a knocking on the front door. Lovino continued to 'sleep' as Antonio paused in his reading, marking his page and putting the book on the table. The Spaniard stood, but not before pressing a gentle kiss to Lovino's cheek and whispering a soft "_un momento, dulzura_".

The Italian couldn't resist cracking an eye open as he tried to ignore the loss of warmth at his side.

He heard the door open, and a Spanish greeting of some sort. He also heard a woman's voice. Lovino frowned slightly; that annoyed him for some reason.

Spain's tone became increasingly anxious, and was he stuttering? The woman sounded familiar, but now she sounded desperate. Almost like Antonio had sounded a few weeks ago. Lovi was troubled, he wrapped a blanket around his shoulders and traipsed over to the scene of the conversation, feigning a yawn.

The first things he noticed as he approached were Spain's eyes. Usually vibrant with laughter, they were now full of what seemed like apprehension. Antonio seemed not to have noticed him yet. Lovino changed his mind and hid behind a wall, just listening instead of interfering.

--

"Ah, _señorita_, I'm sorry, but-" Antonio tried, but the woman behind the door would have nothing of it.

"It's because you like someone else, isn't it?" She sounded as though she was about to cry, whoever she was. Lovino thought it served her right, but then he felt bad about it.

"Of course! I'm sorry that I can't reciprocate your feelings, but I've already given away _mi corazon_ to another." The Italian's heart swelled for a second until he heard a small, almost childlike sob.

"I'm sorry, Natasha..." It was _Belarus_? Romano emerged from behind the corner.

"Antonio... what's going on?" He rubbed an eye as though he had just woken up.

"Ah... nothing you need to worry about, _mi amor_," Spain tried to brush it off, but Belarus stood up, wiping tears from her eyes. She grabbed Lovi by the collar and looked him straight in the eyes, making him squirm slightly.

"You had better treat him well, Romano."

Then Natasha was gone.

The only proof that she had ever been there was Lovino's wide eyes and racing heart.

--

Belarus slammed the door closed and walked around the corner, feeling proud of herself; when she was suddenly attacked by a large moving object.

"That was so amazing Natasha, I could almost feel your pain and you're such a good actress and I'm so glad you helped me and I got these _great_ photos, do you want me to copy any of them for you?" Elizaveta practically gushed; waving a stack of photographs in the taller woman's startled face.

"Um... you're welcome. You can keep the photos, but I have to go make sure Ivan is behaving himself, so... goodbye, Hungary."

With that, the blonde bolted out of there, leaving a very self-satisfied and grinning brunette alone on the sidewalk with her camera.

Elizaveta held up a photo of the 'sleepy' Lovino, grinning maniacally.

"I _did_ say I'd help them get together..."

--

The next morning, Lovino made breakfast. Usually, this job was reserved for the Spaniard, seeing as the Italian could really only make pasta and pizza.

Romano could tell that Spain was surprised to see the table already set. Also, Lovi usually ate more than just toast and apricot jam, so that must have shocked him as well.

But he was willing to try it. Just this once.

--

When they went shopping a couple of days later, Lovino was picking out the tomatoes when he saw Kiku out of the corner of his eye. He turned his head as the Japanese man headed over towards Antonio.

Japan said something to get Spain's attention, then punched him in the arm; saying something else. Then he bowed and left.

Romano raised an eyebrow. Asians were weird.

--

Dinner was quiet, but not in a bad way.

"So... what were you and Japan talking about earlier?" Romano asked offhandedly, causing Spain to look up. The other laughed.

"First he punched me for telling Feliciano that he was planning on 'jumping Germany', as he so put it. Then he bowed and thanked me for telling Feliciano that same thing."

Lovino looked at him in confusion and Antonio simply smiled.

"Apparently, Feliciano banned Ludwig from attending any more one-on-one conferences with Kiku, which have been very frequent, apparently. He was happy that he had some time to himself, or something like that."

"Oh."

Lovino felt much more at ease after that.

--

Spain stood up as Romano collected their plates to wash. "_Buenas noches_, Lovi," Antonio said, kissing him on the forehead. "Don't stay up too late, okay?" the Spaniard reminded him as he walked down the hall. "Whatever, bastard," the Italian scoffed as he slipped the dishes into soapy water. Then his expression relaxed, with a small smile.

"Good night, _tesoro mio_..." Lovino said softly, more to himself than anybody else.

"What was that, Lovi?" Spain called back. Romano spluttered, feeling the blush creep onto his cheeks.

"No-Nothing, you bastard!"

Damn him and his selective perception.

-----

//_End Chapter 10_

-----

"_Te amo_" – Spanish, "I love you".

"_siesta_" – Spanish/Italian, a time of the day designated for nothing in particular. Napping, reading, shopping with friends... Again, the US of A should take this into consideration.

"_un momento, dulzura_" – Spanish, literally, "one moment, sweetness", also translated, "a moment, honey".

"_señorita_" – Spanish, "miss".

"_mi corazon_" – Spanish, "my heart". _Beverly Hills Chihuahua_, anyone?

"_mi amor_" – Spanish, "my love".

"_Buenas noches_" – Spanish, "Good night".

"_tesoro mio_" – Italian, "my treasure". D'awww.

**I know, you're going... BelarusWTF? I mixed her up with Liechtenstein, who I was originally going to use (don't be offended, Belarusians, Liechtensteiners; I'm American, I don't know my world map [/sarcasm]) but then when I actually checked them out, I realized that Liechtenstein would be too stoic to pull it off. Oh well.**

**Anyway... d'awww. I'm thinking next chapter might be interesting... and is anybody interested in an America x England omake? I mean, not **_**soon**_**, per se, but in a couple of chapters... and how do you guys feel about Sweden x Finland? ;)**

**(And for the record, I do actually know my map pretty well. The United States goes underneath Canada and above Mexico, lies atop a lot of smaller Spanish-speaking countries; which is then connected to South America by Panama. I use Sheppard's map exercises almost daily; and I know where almost 60-something African countries are located.)**

**(Yes. I am slightly pissed off by foreign opinions of Americans. But I guess we're all just used to it here...)**


	12. Emotional Maelstrom

**If I abuse your native language, please feel free to kill me. x___x**

**But good news- Tomorrow I have a very long time at home alone, and you know what that means~! Or you don't, but if you do, don't ruin it for the other kids, okay? Okay. ; )**

**I hope you enjoy this back-breaking new installment of **_**Usted Puede Ahora Besar al Novio**_**, because I'm not editing it again tonight. You know, 7:00 AM swim practice tomorrow and all.**

--

"_Whatever, bastard," Antonio heard his boyfriend respond to his good night. He thought he heard him say something else, but it was muffled by the walls and clanging of dishes._

"_What was that, Lovi?" Spain called back._

"_No-Nothing, you bastard!" Antonio smiled._

--

-----

_Emotional Maelstrom_

-----

Lovino, of course, stayed up much later than he should have; as usual. In fact, the Italian's alarm clock was what woke up the Spaniard that morning, and he was forced to trudge over to the other's bed to turn it off.

When Antonio went to make breakfast for the obviously sleepy Italian, he realized that the cupboards were bare again. He sighed and went back to the bedroom, putting on some clothes, then wrote a note to Lovino explaining that he was at the market.

--

After shopping around for what felt like hours, Antonio sat down on a bench with three full bags of groceries; completely exhausted. As he sat there, Sweden and Finland passed by, the younger nation seemingly ecstatic.

"I-I can really have this?" The Fin stuttered happily over some little thing that Berwald had apparently given him. "I mean, it's really mine?"

The taller blonde made a coughing sound in his throat, embarrassed. "Of course it's yours." Tino smiled so widely that Antonio's cheeks hurt just by looking at him.

"_Pidän siitä todella!!_ Thank you so much, Su-Su!" The smaller man stood on tiptoes and kissed Berwald on the cheek, making the Swede blush an ungodly shade of red.

"Um... _Jag älskar dig_, Tino..." the taller man managed to mumble. If Spain thought that the smile on Finland's face was as big as it could get, he was wrong. It got bigger.

"I love you, too! _Rakastan sinua_, Su." As Sweden's 'wife' began spinning around happily, Spain stood and left.

Not only did he now miss Lovino terribly, but watching the two of them interact made Antonio feel as though he was stealing something.

--

"Lovi, I'm back!" Spain sang, somehow managing to close the door with his arms full of groceries.

"It's about damn time..." Romano retorted, pretending that he hadn't missed him.

Spain pretended not to know that Romano was bluffing.

--

During a _siesta_ when Romano was lost in his own little world, painting in the kitchen; Spain breached the ten foot radius of personal space that surrounded Southern Italy. The former glared at Antonio, pausing with his brush in mid-stroke and waiting for the Spaniard to go away.

"Er... _lo siento_, Lovi, but..." Spain began, immensely aware of the weight of the stare directed at him. "...while I was in town, I found these, I thought you might like to have them."

The Italian's glare was redirected to a wicker basket that the other European was holding; containing something or other wrapped in green tissue paper. He continued staring as Antonio slid it up and onto the table. "I don't need presents from you, moron." Spain held his hands up in defeat.

"Use them or don't, but I think you'll need them." With that, Spain walked around the corner; remaining there in wait for the tell-tale sound of ripping tissue paper. Lovino grumbled to himself for a moment, words that Antonio couldn't make out. There was silence as though making sure that Spain had left, and then the satisfying sound of tearing paper.

"The hell... I don't need paint; I have plenty of fucking paint..." The Spaniard smiled and sat down on the couch, finding his place in a poetry book and settling himself comfortably.

"...wait, when did I run out?" Another minute or so passed in silence. The Italian poked his head around the kitchen doorway; blushing, yet still managing to look as though he was on the verge of being pissed off. He averted his eyes from Antonio, clearing his throat to get the Spaniard's attention.

"Um... _grazie_, Antonio," the younger muttered with no small amount of difficulty, as though thanking Antonio was the most irritating thing he had ever done.

The older nation gave Romano a peaceful smile, turning to look him in the face.

"_De nada_." Antonio waited a moment and then grinned. "You know Lovi, if you dyed your hair green-"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, I'd look like a tomato," Lovino finished for him, obviously annoyed. "I've heard it before; so just can it, you Spanish bastard."

"_Te amo también_, Lovino," Antonio trilled back teasingly.

"Didn't I just tell you to shut up?" Lovino retorted, withdrawing into the sanctuary of the kitchen.

The Spaniard didn't miss the small smile that flashed across his face, though.

--

That night, it stormed. The lightning crackled and sizzled as it hit mere miles away, and the resounding thunder made the entire estate reverberate dangerously. Dark clouds rolled overhead, tossing and turning like the rapids underneath a waterfall.

The rain that normally pitter-pattered against the window, too, was much more ominous than usual. The rain hit the glass with so much force that it almost seemed as though the panes would shatter, and Antonio could only pray that they would hold up under the hail-like assault.

Antonio jumped as another jolt of lightning lit the room for a split second, throwing all objects into harsh contrast. The accompanying thunder rumbled like a growling wolf, shaking the very foundation of the Spanish manor.

Despite the racket, Spain could still hear the distinctive squeaks of a frightened Italian.

He frowned slightly, moving over in his bed and pretending to drift off to sleep; as unlikely as that was, considering the maelstrom brewing outside.

Minutes passed, and there was a particularly large clap of thunder. Antonio didn't wait long until the Italian clambered under the covers, holding the Spaniard through his fright.

Lightning filled the room once more, and Spain deemed it safe. He rolled over partially and hugged Lovino close to him, rubbing circles into his back.

Antonio kissed him hard as the thunder resonated through the house; and the other man responded frantically. They continued the cycle throughout the night.

Lovino stopped reacting to the storm.

--

"Antonio! Wake up! There's a World Summit today!" Lovino shook him into consciousness, scowling when the Spaniard remained dead to the world. "Forget it. When you decide you want breakfast, wake the hell up. Thanks to you, we're going to be late, you jerk."

Spain blinked himself awake in a record ten minutes flat. Managing to get himself into clothing that wasn't _too_ rumpled, he trudged to the kitchen and sat down.

"You look horrible," the Italian commented with a raised brow, setting a plate of _churros_ in front of the Spaniard.

"Good morning to you too, sunshine," Antonio retorted somewhat sourly. Unlike Lovino, _he_ didn't kick people in his sleep.

"Sorry, let's try this again. _Buongiorno_, Antonio. You look horrible." Romano responded sarcastically.

Spain smiled a smile that was a little too big for how he was feeling, then chomped on a _churro_, which he didn't really taste.

"I thought we didn't have a Summit until next Thursday," Antonio remembered suddenly. Lovi grimaced.

"That _idiot_ rescheduled it because he had to 'think about' that stupid smoking bill that his boss just passed."His tone said something along the lines of _I really fucking hate America right now_.

Spain smiled again, real this time. Today was going to be _great_.

-----

//_End Chapter 11_

-----

"_Pidän siitä todella!!_" – Finnish, "I really like it!".

"_Jag älskar dig_" – Swedish, "I love you". D'awww, Berwald...

"_Rakastan sinua_" – Finnish, "I love you". D'awww, Tino...

"_siesta_" – Spanish/Italian, time of day just around lunchtime when people drop what they're doing and go home, take a nap, whatever.

"_lo siento_" – Spanish, "I'm sorry".

"_grazie_" – Italian, "thanks".

"_De nada_" – Spanish, "It was nothing".

"_Te amo también_" – Spanish, "I love you, too".

"_Buongiorno_" – Italian, "Good morning".

**I did it... –falls over from exhaustion–**

**  
I think this might be one of my favorites. This chapter is ADHD, just like me. ;)**

**  
So many freaking languages... *x***

**Swedish people can say vowels. :[ Therefore, Berwald only gets the "awkward" treatment rather than the "... f'rg't m' v'w'ls..." treatment. 'Cause THAT'S annoying. Not even kidding you.**

**I hope your brains didn't explode... anyway, please review; this is getting tough. Also, I'm to assume that you guys want a Sweden x Finland omake, yes? I mean, I might do America x England too, but Sweden x Finland is my main priority? **

**If so, can somebody direct me somewhere where I can study their characters better...? I think I made Finland too happy and Sweden too... I don't know, but do you usually see his PDA at an embarrassing level like that?**

**Anyway, **_**ses senare**_** [Swedish, "see you later"]! 'til next time, I suppose.**


	13. Racing Mind, Racing Heart

**I'm sorry this is so late. Without further delay, I welcome you to the new installment of **_**Usted Puede Ahora Besar al Novio**_**. **

**I hope you enjoy it, despite its ADHD qualities and tendencies.**

--

"_Sorry, let's try this again. Buongiorno, Antonio. You look horrible." Romano bit back, irritated._

"_I thought we didn't have a Summit until next Thursday," Antonio recalled. Lovi made a face._

"_That idiot rescheduled it because he had to 'think about' that stupid smoking bill that his boss just passed." Romano was not pleased. Far from it. Today was going to be a horrible day._

--

-----

_Racing Mind, Racing Heart_

-----

America's hopeful, energetic voice came across the conference room loud and clear.

Too bad it was grating on Romano's eardrums. Why did that idiot think that there needed to be a global consensus on gay marriage, anyway? And why was it so _important_? Different countries had different opinions, different customs, and different traditions; so why did Alfred seem to think that they all had to choose one option and agree? It was as though he was _trying_ to start a fight.

Which, in fact, happened.

Papers flew to and fro, obscenities in numerous dialects went blazing across the table, and Lovino was hiding under the table the entire time. Of course, Feliciano was there too, but he was on the other side of the table.

The elder Italian grumbled as he clambered back into his chair while the fight simmered down. Apparently, England had picked up a chair and thrown it at France, who sidestepped it. Unfortunately, the chair happened to be occupied with Canada.

Not that Francis seemed to _mind_ having a lapful of unconscious Canadian. In fact, he seemed rather jovial.

"Now, America," England started, beginning his typical 'we will not go along with your plans because you are an idiot and we all despise you' speech. "You can't expect everybody else to agree with you. You have a notoriously ill-behaved population, your taste in cuisine is rather sickening," Arthur glared at the nations who began whispering among themselves as he said this, "and, to be frank, you're not exactly somebody whom everybody in this room gets along with."

As a matter of the fact, most of the countries in this room did not approve of America. Some eyed him with distaste as he walked by them; some gave him their nation's version of the finger, and others simply hoped that he wouldn't meddle in their nation's affairs.

America simply smiled widely and brushed it off. "Yes, but you see, if a gay couple was moving from one country to another, that could be very confusing for them if they were moving from say, Spain, where gay marriage is legal, to... England, where it's only a domestic partnership."

Lovino groaned, this wasn't going to go anywhere. "Why are we yapping about this? Obviously, we all have our own preferences, so just leave us the hell alone and make up your own mind about your own problems, America!"

America sulked. "But it was either global consensus on gay marriage or global warming again today... Okay, then. My idea is to get a giant hero to shield the earth-"

"Haven't we heard this one already?" Spain whispered to Romano, who simply rolled his eyes and sunk back into his chair.

"I agree with Amer-" Japan began, only to be silenced by an openly irritated Switzerland; who then struck up a conversation with China, in which the topic of discussion was "if I raised him to be smart like he is, why is he so enamored with stupid things like that, aru...".

Canada began to stir in France's lap, so the Frenchman excused himself and the Canadian early, presumably to do unspeakable things to poor Matthew in a supply closet somewhere awkwardly close to the conference room, where the rest of the nations would have to listen to every single dirty French thing said between the two.

Not to say that Matthew seemed to _mind_ having unspeakable things done to him by the Frenchman.

But that's a story for another day.

Regardless, the conference progressed. Lovino was not pleased.

--

The meeting ended on a bad note when Canada and France came back, and after settling again, Canada spoke up against America, and England sided with him.

"You _always_ liked Canada better! Stop playing favorites!"

Well, that was unexpected. Romano stopped doodling pictures of his brother stabbing Germany and turned his attention to the scene, which seemed like a soap opera.

"I did _not_ like Canada better, you git! I just _happen_ to favor him because he doesn't _argue_ as much as ninnies like _you_!" England ground out, just as aggravated.

Canada opened his mouth to say something, and America glared at him. "Don't even start, Matt. At least _you_ have a national anthem that isn't based off of the tune of an English drinking song."

Some nations blinked as England and America argued. Canada simply sighed and turned to them, offering an explanation.

"He's just angry because every other country has an original, beautiful anthem, but his was written by a man in prison watching his nation's greatest fort go up in flames to the tune of a song he sang while he was drunk in the pub just the week before."

Lovino sighed and went back to his doodles. This time he would draw England taping America's mouth shut.

--

Of course, the meeting didn't come to a conclusion, and another one was scheduled "same time next week", according to America, who was still a little upset and nursing a burn on his shoulder that he'd gotten when China had spilled tea on him during their fistfight.

Lovino simply rolled his eyes again, and Antonio laughed and spirited him away from the chaos.

--

"Antonio... are we dating?"

The Spaniard paused a moment. "I think we are. Why, do you want to be?"

Lovino stuck his tongue out at him. "N-No. You wish. Just wondering." He didn't miss Spain's smile of satisfaction.

--

"_Merda_..." Lovino cursed, sticking a finger into his mouth.

"What's wrong, _amor_?" Antonio asked, walking into the kitchen.

"I just cut my stupid finger open on this paper..." the Italian grumbled, making the Spaniard laugh.

"_Aquí_, let me see," Spain said, holding Romano's injured hand up to eye level. "It's not too deep..."

Antonio kissed the tip of his finger. Lovino closed his eyes tightly.

_Why is my heart racing like this?_

-----

//_End Chapter 12_

-----

"_Buongiorno_" – Italian, "Good morning".

"_git_" – English (UK), "idiot".

"_ninnies_" – English (UK), something akin to "imbecilic fools".

"_Merda_" – Italian, "Shit".

"_amor_" – Spanish, "love".

"_Aquí_" – Spanish, "Here".

**Yet again, sorry for the lateness of this chapter... –bow-**

**I'm having some minor difficulties writing. Like, last night, I couldn't think of anything and I ended up going to sleep at a decent hour instead of at two in the morning. Then, I woke up at two in the morning and drank a couple of litres of water, so I had to go to the hospital for water-poisoning. That's why this is so late in the day. But technically, I'm still on-track...**

**Conferences are hard to write. DX**


	14. Mankind's Flaw

**Alright, some answers:**

**Yes, France did do XX to Canada in the closet. However, as he says, "Hardcore **_**amour**_** is for the **_**chambre à coucher**_**." So they did XX, but not XXX. Yes, that made sense.**

**Yes, the scene last chapter was basically episode 1 of Hetalia. But not really. I perceive America to be the kind of guy who doesn't understand why people don't agree with him and just tries to push the same ideas on everyone as though his persistence will sway their vote. Thus, the big hero is brought back.**

**Moving on...**

**A reader said the story was getting boring. She said, "U can haz drama plz?" I mean, not literally. But yeah, the story was getting boring.**

**Not anymore. Though now, it may be a bit more... angsty? You wade in choppy waters, readers. Remember your life vests in case it gets to be too much.**

**Try to enjoy this installment of **_**Usted Puede Ahora Besar al Novio**_**.**

**I know I didn't.**

--

"_I just cut my stupid finger open on this paper..." Lovino grumbled childishly, making Antonio laugh at the sheer nostalgia._

"_A ve, let me see," he said, ignoring Romano's earlier curse for now. "It's not too deep..." He smiled softly and kissed the tip of his finger._

_I don't want to scare him away... and a kiss is a kiss, no matter where, so it still counts; right?_

--

-----

_Mankind's Flaw_

-----

The following night at dinner, Romano asked Spain an interesting question.

"Spain, why aren't you following the rules?"

This took the other European nation by surprise. He set his fork down. "What do you mean, Lovino?"

"I mean..." The Italian was looking around nervously, coughing. "Um... why..." The rest of what he said was mumbled and rushed, and Spain blinked in confusion, completely lost.

"¿_Qué_?" Lovino cleared his throat and took a deep breath.

"WhydidyoustopkissingmewheneverIcursed?" he blurted out, then covered his face with his hands, presumably to hide his blush. Spain stood up, unsure of what he'd just heard.

"Why don't I... kiss you?" he asked, as though testing the question. Lovino squeaked in response, verifying that what Antonio thought he'd heard was correct. He smiled softly, walking over to kneel next to the Italian, who put a hand on the table.

"I do kiss you when you curse. Just... not on the mouth. I just didn't think you'd like it if I took advantage of the rules. That wouldn't be right," the Spaniard chose his words carefully.

"I just wanted to respect your personal boundaries," Antonio said quietly, holding Lovino's hand in his own and rubbing it softly his other.

"Well... you should. Kiss me, I mean," Lovino managed to say without stuttering too much. "It was part of the deal, after all." Spain squeezed his hand and removed the other one from Romano's face, which was tomato red.

"If you wanted me to kiss you, you should have just asked," Spain replied softly, kissing the backs of each of Romano's hands.

"I just did, didn't I...?" Romano mumbled, embarrassed. Antonio smiled and released one of the Italian's hands, turning Lovino's head back to face him.

"Thank you, Lovi..." The Spaniard leaned in slightly to kiss him.

Lovino met him halfway, for once.

--

"Hey, Lovi, I'm going to see Ludwig later, is that okay?" Spain called from their bedroom.

"What am I your mother? Of course you ca- CHIGIIIII!!" Romano suddenly yelped from the hallway. Antonio jumped up.

"Lovi, what's wrong? Are you okay?" the Spaniard panicked, calming considerately when he saw the Italian simply sitting in front of a vanity mirror in the hallway. "What happened?"

Lovino whimpered. "I got my hair tangled in the brush..." Antonio looked, and sure enough, among the many silver teeth, Lovino's single curl was wound almost as though it had been threaded through by a skillful seamstress.

"Here, I'll get it out, just hold still-" Spain assured, reaching forward to take the brush and try to untangle it. He moved the brush accidentally, just slightly tugging the hair upward; and Antonio could feel Lovino shudder breathlessly.

"Just... _fix it_, Antonio..." the Italian practically begged, looking up at him with those pleading eyes. Spain gulped. He'd fix it.

Hopefully he wouldn't jump Lovino in the process, but he'd fix it.

--

"Spain, I don't need Hungary to _baby-sit_ me," Lovino complained as the brunette woman simply ruffled his hair with a slightly devious grin.

"Actually, yes, I did. Otherwise you'd start painting, get lost in your own little world and forget to eat lunch again." Lovino hit him, but not hard.

"Shut up, that was one time," the Italian retorted, crossing his arms with a 'don't mess with me' look about him that just made the Spaniard want to mess with him even more.

"Are you afraid that you'll miss me, _querido_?" Spain teased, making Romano flush like the tomatoes he loved so much. Antonio loved seeing him get like this. Lovino scoffed.

"No way, you're just going to see that potato-bastard about something, right? You'll be back before I can finally settle down and get some peace and quiet." The Spaniard just grinned and read between the lines.

_No, but I'd miss you if you were going to be gone any longer. It'll be boring and quiet around here without you._

"¡_Está bién_! I'll be back before you know it," Spain said, smiling widely. He turned to leave while Elizaveta attempted to usher a spluttering Lovino inside.

"I won't miss you! I'll have so much more fun without you here!" Antonio simply laughed.

"Love you too, dear!"

--

"So, Germany," Spain began, deciding to just get to the point. "Today is the last day of the courting, right?" Ludwig nodded.

"Yes, the actual timeframe should end in a few minutes," the German agreed. Feliciano bounced over and settled himself on a chair next to Ludwig.

"_Ve_, so how did it go?" Italy asked Spain, who smiled.

"I think it might work, but without this... without the rules, I mean... I don't know how long it will last once he knows that he's free. I know he'll drift away; it's just a question of when. Tomorrow? Today? A year? I'm not so sure I want to find out," Antonio admitted, making Feliciano frown.

"Don't be so hard on yourself, you did great! Lovi's looked a lot happier than I've seen him in a long time. I mean, unless he's making out with somebody when you get home, you're in the clear," the younger Italian said jokingly.

Antonio grinned, tired. "Yeah," he said. "Thanks."

--

Spain ran a hand through his hair as he approached the front door. Talking to somebody as uptight as Ludwig always drained him, no matter how little time he actually had to spend with him. He groaned and pushed the key into the door, opening it with a creak of complaint.

_I guess I need to oil the hinges_...

Antonio blinked a couple of times and frowned. Why was it so dark? "Lovino? Elizaveta? Are you in here?" He flipped on a light and heard something shift quickly by the couch.

Hungary stood up suddenly, wiping off her mouth with the back of her hand, as though that would erase what she had just been doing from existence. Laughing awkwardly.

"O-Oh! Spain! I didn't think you'd be back so early!"

Spain's stomach sank, and he felt cold, like his body was moving but he couldn't feel anything. Lovino jumped up, gripping the back of the couch until his knuckles turned white, his eyes wide. "Antonio, I swear, it's not what it looks like! I mean, it is, but it's not!"

Antonio clenched his fist tightly around his keys, so numb that he didn't even feel the cut as the blood pooled up in his clenched fist and began dripping on the carpet. He couldn't face him.

"Spain, I swear-" Lovino tried, but Antonio interrupted.

"It's okay. I understand. The courting ended a couple of minutes ago, anyway." He could see the hurt in the Italian's eyes as he understood what he was being told. Spain felt pity for Romano's pain, but it could never match the pain of his betrayal that was now leaving a gaping hole in his heart.

"Romano, you... _tú eres mi vida_. I just want you to be happy. Keep the house; I don't need it anymore."

The best thing to do if you loved something was to let it go.

It would be much easier to let go if Lovino hadn't been crying.

-----

//_End Chapter 13_

-----

"_A ve_" – Spanish, please see Chapter 12's definition.

"¿_Qué_?" – Spanish, "What?".

"_querido_" – Spanish, "dear" or "darling".

"¡_Está bién_!" – Spanish, "It's okay!" or "All right!".

"_Ve_" – Unknown in origin, a word commonly used by Northern Italy.

"_tú eres mi vida_" – Spanish, "you are my life".

**I can't help but feel that this chapter is insanely horrible. DX Oh well.**

**  
Review if you want a happy ending.**


	15. Dejected Lost Lamb

**EDIT: An anonymous reviewer named Astrid explained the flaws in my Italian. I kind of expected it; after all, how far am I supposed to get with only Babelfish and common sense? XD Anyway, everybody thank Astrid. GRRR.**

**Sorry this took so long to get out. I finally hit five pages and was like, "Whoo, I'm done, but this is gonna be late!"**

**  
Then I realized that my chapters are usually five pages **_**with**_** the authors' notes.**

**Whoops.**

**  
Anyway, general depression is up. Good luck picking your way through **_**Usted Puede Ahora Besar al Novio**_**.**

**Enjoy somewhat.**

--

"_Spain, I swear-" Romano tried again, wide-eyed, but it was no use._

"_It's okay. I understand. The courting ended a couple of minutes ago, anyway." Lovino suddenly felt a chill; and his body went numb; as though he was watching the goings-on from a third point perspective. He saw Spain take a shaky breath and ball a hand into a fist before releasing it again._

"_Romano, you... tú eres mi vida. I just want you to be happy. Keep the house; I don't need it anymore."_

--

-----

_Dejected Lost Lamb_

-----

Lovino lay back on the couch after Elizaveta force-fed him lunch (Hungarian food was great, she protested; but Lovi needed _tomatoes_, damn it). "Is there anything else you'd like me to do, Romano?" Hungary asked politely.

Southern Italy shrugged. "I'm just going to take a nap, so I guess you could turn off the lights."

The lights went off, and he closed his eyes. He heard Hungary settle in Spain's old armchair, and for a minute, all was quiet.

Then, "Lovino, what does Antonio mean to you?" The Italian blinked. "I don't mean does he make you feel good, but what does he really _mean_ to you?" A large grandfather clock struck 4 PM in the foyer, and the seconds ticked by slowly.

"I guess... I really, really like him. I'm not sure what he means to me, exactly," Romano offered after a while. "Sometimes he aggravates me to no end, and other times I just want to kiss him," he added as an afterthought, seemingly not embarrassed at indulging this information.

"Would you fight to keep him?"

Lovino was about to answer when the front door opened.

"Lovino? Elizaveta? Are you in here?"

Hungary was suddenly kneeling over Romano, close enough for him to smell her hair. He blinked in surprise.

"You're going to hate me for this, Lovino, but it's for your own good."

She kissed him, hard, but chaste.

The lights flickered on.

--

Lovino was still holding onto the couch; it had been about half of an hour and the numbness hadn't passed yet. Elizaveta had patted him on the back and told him that she was sorry, "but it needed to be done," and Antonio had gone back to their room, probably to pack. Romano hadn't wiped away the tears that streaked his cheeks yet, and they'd dried onto his skin, making his face itch; but he couldn't gather the effort to move his hands to brush them away.

He'd lost Spain.

He felt like a young boy who had finally learned to care for a puppy, only to let go of the leash and watch, wide-eyed, as it bolted and was hit by a speeding truck. That same, prickling coldness continued to throb through his veins, like liquid ice.

Antonio came back into sight, holding a traveling bag. He stood, looking at Lovino for a moment, and opened his mouth as though he was going to say something.

He closed his mouth and averted his eyes, turning toward the front door. The Italian found his voice again.

"_P-Per favore_... Antonio, don't go..."

He saw Spain bristle slightly from the back, then let out another shaky breath.

"_Lo siento_, Lovino. I love you."

Lovino could hear the protesting creak as the heavy door swung on its hinges, and then the door shut with a contrasting click.

Antonio was gone.

--

Lovino spent days simply believing that Antonio would just come back if he waited long enough. He'd walk in through that door in front and laugh it all off, Lovino would curse at him, and everything would be right with the world.

It didn't happen. Romano sat at the kitchen table, almost unmoving for two entire days, simply waiting for the telltale whine of the hinges on the mahogany door, but it never came. He couldn't sleep; when he went to bed, that is. During _siestas_, he would retrieve Spanish novels from the bookcase lining the wall and simply stare at the pages until they turned blurry.

The fifth night after Spain's departure, Romano tried to sleep. His eyes hurt so much, and his head was pounding. Yet the next day, daylight shone into the room and Lovino hadn't slept for even a minute.

On the sixth night, he crawled into Antonio's bed and hugged the pillow close to his face. Breathing in the faint spicy scent that still lingered there allowed him to finally close his tired eyes and sleep, fitfully.

--

The house was too big, Lovino realized after a while. His footsteps echoed in the dark halls, and since Spain had left, the weather seemed to get worse and worse.

Romano didn't eat much in the next two weeks. Sometimes he'd forget, but most of the time he simply starved himself as a form of punishment. How could he have let it happen in the first place? How could he let Antonio slip through his fingers like that?

The Italian stared blankly at his own two hands in front of his face, curling them up and straightening them again, as though they were foreign to him.

How could he let him leave?

--

He couldn't paint. Not anymore. Whatever muse he had once had must have left him, and when he picked up the brush, he couldn't really feel it. Its weight was strange, and he couldn't balance it between his trembling fingers. The paints he still had were gifts from Antonio, and it almost hurt to look at them, let alone use them.

Lovino took long showers, mostly; sometimes for hours. He didn't even notice when the water went from boiling hot to frigid cold. He couldn't notice. Sluggish thoughts left thick trails in his mind. Was Antonio alright? If he wasn't here, where was he?

_Does he hate me?_

These were the thoughts that stained Romano's brain as he quietly turned off the onslaught of icy spray and toweled himself off, succeeding only in feeling more lost than ever.

--

It rained, the third week. Maybe it had rained during the last couple of weeks, Lovino wouldn't know. He couldn't remember much of anything these days. Did he eat yesterday? When did he last shower? Nothing came to mind. The fact that it was raining shouldn't have even registered in Romano's mind, aside from one detail.

It was a thunderstorm. Maybe the worst one he'd ever experienced. Around midnight, a bolt of lightning must have struck a telephone pole, and the lights surged for a moment before everything turned completely dark.

Romano curled himself into a ball and pulled the blankets tightly over his head to wait out the storm, terrified.

Absolutely terrified.

--

The next day, there was a knock at the door; the first visitor since Spain left. Lovino lay face down in his bed for another five minutes while the mystery person continued to rap on the door. He finally got up, rubbing sleep from his eyes dark eyes and trudging to the door.

When he opened it, he was surprised to see his brother standing there. Rather, he would have been surprised, had he contained any enthusiasm whatsoever.

The look on Feliciano's face shifted from worry to shock to frantic worry.

"Lovi?! You look terrible!"

--

Feliciano stayed with him the next couple of days, forcing him to eat and get some sun; and after a while Lovino became intensely annoyed and snapped back at his brother for something he'd just said. Feliciano simply smiled and said that it was part of the healing process.

"What would you even know about it?" Romano mumbled in response, irate; completely drained of energy and sleepy as could be. Italy simply smiled sadly.

"It feels like a big part of you is missing, right? Like you're not really yourself, like everything is just a huge mistake that you'd rather forget, and soon you'll wake up and everything will be fine again." Lovino nodded faintly, face pressed into a pillow while he lay on the couch for the first time in what seemed like ages.

Feliciano made a noise, and Lovino turned his head to look at him. The younger brother extended a pointer finger and touched his heart. "That's how it felt when Holy Roman Empire faded. Empty," he said, eyes downcast. Feliciano touched Lovi's heart with his other hand.

"There's a hole. Right here."

--

There seems to be a universally accepted theorem in our universe, one which states that the less you want to see someone, the more likely you are to encounter them. This theorem often works to one's disadvantages, and therefore people shut themselves into their homes; effectively sealing their lives away from reality.

As Lovino was forced out of the darkness of the house (_his_ house, now), he remembered this rule and attempted to relay it to his brother, to no avail. Ironically, minutes after the pair arrived in the marketplace to buy something to eat (more for Feliciano, really; Lovino still wasn't eating much), the older Italian brother managed to trip over somebody while shuffling around and looking at the ground in a generally dejected sort of mood.

"Ouch..." Lovino rubbed his arm from where he'd fallen on it, scowling. "Watch where you're going, you jerk..."

"Lovi," the other person said, sounding almost surprised. Something got caught in the Italian's throat.

_Antonio_.

-----

//_End Chapter 14_

-----

"..._tu eres mi vida_" – Spanish, "...you are my life".

"_P-Per favore_..." – Italian, "P-Please...".

"_Lo siento_" – Spanish, "I'm sorry".

"_siestas_" – Spanish/Italian, the time of day around and after lunch in which people drop everything... fuck, do I seriously STILL have to define this? This is as monotonous as defining "_merda_" chapter after chapter. -___-

**So much angst... I'm an angsty person, don't get me wrong, but I write fluff like the first batch of chapters all the time.**

**Also, I told some of you that I would be writing a France x Canada omake for this chapter, which is not true, as you can plainly see in the many pieces of text above you. I got stuck and ended up with mainly dialogue, and really only a fifth of it got done...**

**Which is another reason why this is so late. Whoops.**

**Review Rangers, ASSEMBLE!**

**Also, I complained about this a little to my friend, who does not have a much esteemed reputation. She told me to take a break if it was so stressful.**

**I laughed at her and then started typing up a storm.**

**Am I sane?**


	16. Back to Square One

**Sorry this took so long! –bow- It's pretty hard to do a depressed Spain, I must say. I don't much like this, but you guys seem to appreciate whatever I churn out, so... meh.**

Anyway, this took a while since I was cleaning up past chapters for foreign grammar, verb usage, just plain errors, etc.... so thank you for bearing with me.

**Please enjoy this new installment of **_**Usted Puede Ahora Besar al Novio**_**.**

--

"_Ouch..." Antonio muttered an apology as he picked up a couple of items that had fallen on the ground. "Watch where you're going, you jerk..." Spain's eyes widened and he quickly turned around in disbelief, seeing Romano dusting himself off as he stood, cursing to himself._

"_Lovi," Antonio breathed out, too shocked to say anything else. The Italian's eyes grew big as well, and he whipped his head up to look at the Spaniard, curses dying on his lips._

_It's you._

--

-----

_Back to Square One_

-----

These past four weeks had been more than hell for Antonio as well. First off, when he decided to leave, he was completely numb and irrational. Being away for even a day made him realize that this would be a tribulation of enormous proportions, and the following month or so proved it immensely.

Second, he had nowhere to go. For the first week, he slept outside on benches and other places. Finland found him one day and forced him to stay with he and Sweden (who would have known that Tino could be so strong?), granted; they could only make him stay for a day before he felt out of place. Not to mention the fact that their PDA was a little disturbing, especially considering how stoic Sweden usually appeared. Oh, and Spain couldn't really stomach the _salmiakki_, thought that wasn't really their fault.

He was out on the streets again by daybreak.

France found him a couple of days later, predictably schmoozing some very pretty, giggling young lady; who, unfortunately for the blonde, seemed to already have a very muscular boyfriend. As Francis walked (with a slight limp and a black eye, mind you) by the bench where Antonio lay, he basically invited him back to his place for a while, laughing with a bitter tone.

"_Monsieur_, we both seem to have been shamed in the face of _amour_."

Spain grudgingly went; at least he knew that if he was with France, he wouldn't be intruding on something as special as what the Northern European husband and wife had.

It wouldn't be as painful to watch.

--

France set him up in a spare bedroom around midnight, when they stumbled home after getting pleasantly smashed. Of course, the phrase 'set him up' is used loosely, as it was more of a drunken wave in the general direction of the spare rooms before Francis passed out on the floor, mumbling about the ladies. But it was enough.

Spain simply laid there for a while on top of the covers, face buried in the pillow; thinking about the things he'd done. Romano wasn't going to come after him; he must be so pissed at him by now.

Antonio was on his own, and this finally sunk in while the alcohol numbed his brain.

That's when he finally cried.

--

Regardless, the past couple of weeks had been pretty horrible; and Spain had finally gotten used to France bringing home random people and doing unspeakable things to them just down the hall and to the right. Once, he'd brought England home, and when the Frenchman spoke a single word of French, the Brit, summarily, "beat the bloody hell out of the wanker"; as he had explained, flustered, to somebody over the phone. Francis had actually offered a couple of times, but Antonio declined.

Heartbreak couldn't be cured that easily.

Even now, as he stared in wonder at Lovino, he felt painful twinges and he was forced to look away again.

"Ah... how have you been, Romano?" Spain asked after a minute or so of silence, still gazing off to the side.

"Um... fine, I guess..." the Italian muttered, obviously at least as shaken as Antonio was.

They stayed that way for a while, Antonio standing and looking away, and Lovino doing the same while sitting on the ground.

"Lovi~! Come here! What do you want for dinner?" Feliciano called from a couple of stalls over, not noticing Antonio. Lovino cleared his throat.

"It's nice to know that you're well," he said after another awkward moment. "Bye."

And Spain was left alone yet again.

--

Lovino was definitely ignoring him.

Antonio had tried to call him hundreds of times for the past couple of days, not pausing to eat and ringing up Francis' phone bill to previously unreachable heights. Yet his ex...

Spain shivered at the thought of the word 'ex'. Perhaps he should just go see Lovino? The Italian wouldn't like that. Then again, he'd probably make that cute face he always made when he was angry...

--

It took Antonio another two days before he was forcibly shoved in the direction of his old home.

"I'm sick and tired of seeing you mope around in my house when all you have to do to reclaim _amour_ is walk a couple of blocks. Don't bother coming back until you've made up."

And with that, he was left on his own porch, by France no less. Spain sighed and looked around. The weeds were growing over the front steps, and there was dirt everywhere. Right, there had been a thunderstorm last week; a pretty big one, too.

_Was Lovino okay_?

That was what he was thinking as he knocked on the door. It opened.

"Oh, hi Spain!" Wrong Italian. Oh well.

"_Buenas tardes_, Italy. Is Romano home?" Antonio asked, hoping he didn't sound too eager. Not that it would be bad to sound eager, but he didn't really _feel_ eager. He wasn't too keen on having Lovino's eyes drilling into his head for his inconsideration.

Feliciano, however, didn't seem to notice. "Oh, he's home, but he's asleep. You can go visit him if you like, just don't wake him up!" Lovino was asleep? It was five in the afternoon, well after their _siesta_ and much too early to be retiring for the night.

"Ah... okay. Thank you, Feliciano."

--

The Spaniard sat down quietly beside the sleeping Italian, squeezing the hand that was sticking off of the bed. Antonio noticed that Lovino was sleeping in what used to be his bed, but that didn't really matter much to him. Feliciano had explained some of the problems that Lovi had been having lately and why he had been staying around to help out.

_Was he always this thin_? _No, it must have been because he was anxious_...

The significantly smaller Italian rolled over slightly in his sleep with a whimper, and Antonio went to hug him before pulling back. He didn't have that liberty anymore.

The timer went off in the kitchen, and Spain stood up. The hand clutching his wouldn't release him, though. Antonio looked down at Lovino, who seemed to be half asleep still.

"P-Please don't leave me again, Antonio..." Spain felt that familiar ache of emptiness in his heart.

"_Lo siento_, _mi amor_. It is not my place anymore." He pried the small fingers from his own and left Lovino on his own.

Again.

--

A couple of minutes, he had poured a generous amount of tomato sauce on whatever pasta Feliciano had put on the stove, linguini or something. He was bringing it to their... _Romano's_ room, and as he stepped in, he saw the Italian sitting up, eyes red and slightly puffy. Antonio smiled sadly. He was thinner than he thought, and the bags under his eyes looked worse when he was awake.

"Spain..." The Italian didn't seem too surprised, more melancholy, really. "Is this a dream?"

The Spaniard cast his eyes downward, that mourning smile still brushing the edges of his mouth.

"I'm afraid it's a nightmare, sweetheart. Go back to sleep." Lovino seemed to want to protest, but his eyelids were heavier than his resolve and he drifted back into what Antonio assumed was a dreamless sleep.

Ever since last month, that was the only kind of sleep Antonio ever got, at least.

--

Lovino never asked about Antonio's reappearance in their house; perhaps he was afraid that the illusion would fade should he question it. Either way, Spain was grateful. Weeks passed by and gradually, Lovino gained back the weight he'd lost. He was still tired most of the time, but he had reverted back to his old ways of cursing Spain out for every little thing. Antonio was glad, although he wished they could go back to what they had.

Maybe they'd broken it too completely for it to go back to what it was.

--

"Antonio, can I tell you something?" Lovino asked one day as they sat silently, eating lunch. He'd gotten more talkative lately, but they were still merely on roommate terms with each other. At least, Romano was. Spain still whispered sweet, meaningless things to Romano at night and whenever he went to sleep, Lovino simply didn't respond other than an occasional 'hush' every couple of days.

"Antonio?" Romano tried again, and Spain was brought back to the sad, sad present.

"Ah, _sí_, Lovi; what is it?" The Spaniard was curious; after all, Lovino hadn't outright asked for something for a while now.

"It's about Hungary... I didn't kiss her, she kissed me."

Spain froze.

_Elizaveta_.

-----

//_End Chapter 15_

-----

"_salmiakki_" – Finnish, a type of salty, spicy liquorice that is supposedly disgusting to all people that aren't Finnish. I'm not exactly sure, but it didn't sound like something yummy for Spain.

"_Monsieur_" – French, "Sir" or "Mister".

"_amour_" – French, "love".

"_Buenas tardes_" – Spanish, "Good afternoon".

"_siesta_" – Spanish/Italian, a time of day after and around lunch in which people drop just about everything to go home, take a nap, go to the mall, etc....

"_Lo siento_, _mi amor_" – Spanish, "I am sorry, my love".

"_sí_" – Spanish, "yes".

**Okay, so there you have it. I'd like to make some very... non-pushy suggestions.**

**There are some authoresses I'd like you all to check out, please; not simply because I ask you to, but also because they can most certainly fill the void in your hearts that you seem to get when I don't update fast enough for you.**

**First off; this writer has a FanFiction, but it doesn't exactly work for her, so you'll have to visit her page on deviantART. Trust me, it's worth every second. Her work wrenches my heart around on a little string with every word. You'll have to look her up yourself because FF allows no links, but her dA username is WildWolfMoon94. My personal favorites of hers are **_**Puppy Love**_**, an absolutely adorable Spain x Romano that was dedicated to yours truly. Love this girl so much. Also, I recommend **_**Because**_**, an England and America fic that is just too cute for words. If you're in need of angst, I suggest **_**Victory**_**, since it made me cry. This recommendation is too damned long.**

**Also, I strongly recommend you check out the works of Spazzkitty and Ferix88, who DO in fact have FF accounts. You can find their work through searching or looking through the reviews for this story, because boy, do they leave a lot. X3**

**Personally, I like Spazzkitty's **_**Turning the World Upside Down**_**, which focuses on four pairings that I think you will like. The Spain x Romano rivals mine. In fact, I'm almost worried about how good it is. She updates... probably more often than I do, but more randomly. Don't worry, though, you can read her America x England fic **_**A Vibrant Bouquet of Balloons**_** to tide yourselves over until then. **

**Ferix88 has a single fanfic, "my first" is what I read; but the writing style indicates mastery of the concepts. This magnificent writer has managed to enrapture me with a cast made of entirely OC's, which is very rare for me. The fic, as you'll see, is named **_**The Calling**_**, and centers around the present day crisis in Iraq. I much enjoyed it, it gave me a bubbly feeling, despite the vivid descriptions.**

**My updates will be more sporadic from now on; hopefully still day-to-day, but in order to retain the quality of my work with my inflexible swim schedule, I'll have to update this irregularly.**


	17. The Courage It Takes

**Subtract the author's notes, and this chapter is almost six full pages on Word. I've outdone myself. –continues to be extremely humble-**

**Last chapter- France and England ****did not get it on****. England literally beat the crap out of France when he realized he was basically cheating on Alfr- O WAIT. –is really bad at keeping secrets anyway-**

**Anyway, a very kind reviewer pointed out that my Spanish, used for the goddamned **_**title**_**, no less, had incorrect syntax. FML.**

**You have yourselves (the wonderful reviewers) and the **_**Delicious Tomato Song**_** to thank for this chapter.**

**Anyway, I hope you enjoy this new installment of **_**Usted Puede Ahora Besar **__**al**__** Novio**_**.**

--

"_Antonio, can I tell you something?" Lovino fidgeted, the Spaniard wasn't answering. He looked like he was thinking about something, so the Italian tried again. "Antonio?"  
_

"_Ah, sí, Lovi; what is it?" Antonio said, shaking his head sheepishly and putting his fork down. Romano gulped, he didn't know whether he should indulge Spain in this knowledge, but..._

"_It's about Hungary..." Lovino saw Antonio tense up slightly, but he pressed on. "I didn't kiss her, she kissed me." Spain looked searchingly at him, calculating; much different from the Spain he'd once held and kissed. Suddenly, the Italian felt very afraid for Elizaveta._

--

-----

_The Courage It Takes_

-----

They finished lunch in a very heavy silence, Spain eating a bit faster than usual, Romano noticed. After Lovino was full, Antonio quietly told him to go to bed. "I'll do the dishes," he said, with that same, alien calmness.

The Italian lay down in the bed, but he couldn't sleep. What would happen to Hungary? He'd never seen Spain act like this, and he was honestly a little bit afraid. This was still his fault. If he'd been painting or anything else, Hungary's... _whatever_ it was she had done wouldn't have seemed as suggestive and maybe he and Antonio would still be together.

Lovino had a headache now. He sighed and pulled the pillow closer to himself. It had long since stopped smelling of the Spaniard, but it was the principle of the thing; he supposed.

He pulled the no longer Spain-scented sheets over his head and willed himself to sleep.

--

Romano stared incredulously at the much bruised Spain in front of him, who was holding a bag of ice to the side of his head and had a very bloody lip. He'd woken up after having a nightmare and had then wandered into the kitchen for something to pacify his raging nerves, and there was Antonio, battle worn and exhausted on a chair at the end of the table.

"What the hell happened to you, bastard?" Lovino started, and Antonio laughed; obvious weariness in his voice.

"You should see Hungary." Romano's blood ran cold.

"...what did you do to Elizaveta?" The Italian couldn't tell, but he was shaking. Spain laughed again, more easily this time.

"Relax, Lovi. I didn't do anything to your girlfriend," Spain chuckled, obviously meant as a joke, but Lovino cringed a little regardless. "Actually, I just talked to her calmly and told her that if she ever touched you again without your permission that I would rip every pretty hair from her head. These," the Spaniard said, motioning to his battered body, "are from Austria."

Lovino suddenly burst out laughing. "The great Spain defeated by a pretty man like Austria? I would have paid to see that!"

Spain grinned, happy to make Romano smile. "Actually, apparently he was visiting and heard the whole thing. Hungary was very mature about it and apologized, but Austria... man, for somebody who divorced that poor girl, he really got pissed off..." Lovino was still giggling; the vision of a refined 'young master' like Roderich beating somebody up was just too hilarious.

"Keep laughing, Lovi. I'll show the same amount of pity to you when you get beaten up by Sealand in a couple of years."

Lovino shut up.

--

Romano stared at the floor. There was mud. Not only was there mud, there was mud _everywhere_. On the floors that _he_ would have to clean up.

A brown eye twitched dangerously. Somebody was dead.

The shower was running, so obviously this was Antonio's doing. Lovino grumbled, he'd beat some sense into him later, but for now, he needed some fresh air. He stepped outside and was startled.

The backyard that had been demolished by fallen trees and scattered earth after the thunderstorm a week prior looked much, much nicer. The trees were cleared, and somehow the grass seemed cut, though he hadn't heard a lawnmower. Romano blinked twice and looked slightly to the left. A patch of dirt that had once been used for flowers was now being used for... were those tomato plants?

With an odd smile tugging at his lips, Lovino went back inside and fetched a mop.

He'd scold Antonio later. Right now, the house needed cleaning.

--

Lunchtime came around.

"Hey, Lovi, are you the one that made the floors all slippery and mopped a bunch of mud into a pile in the middle of the living room?"

"Are you the one that traipsed around in my _spotless_ house with muddy boots in the first place?"

"Ah, _touché_."

--

Dinner came after dinner, though far after it. Something was bothering Lovino.

"...Spain?" he asked, picking uninterestedly at his pasta. The Italian was still having a little trouble eating. He claimed that his stomach was smaller now, because he'd eaten very rarely last month and that he didn't want to stuff himself to the point of getting sick. Germany had told him politely that he was full of bullshit, and Romano had politely responded that Germany was a fuck off.

"¿_Sí_?" Antonio responded, taking another bite of his dinner.

"You said _touché_ earlier. But that's French." Spain shifted uncomfortably in his seat, and Romano looked at him warily.

"You don't speak French. Where have you been staying while you were gone?" Antonio laughed nervously.

"Well, you see-"

"Where the _fuck_ have you been sleeping this past month and a half?" Lovino demanded through his teeth.

"Ah... mostly on park benches, and I spent a night at Berwald and Tino's..." The park benches quip made Romano blink for a moment, but there was something Spain wasn't telling him; and he glared at him.

"Don't give me that look! France! I was sleeping with France!"

They both looked at each other in what seemed like stunned silence. Romano knew in his heart that Spain had meant it a different way than that, but he was already riled up, kind of pissed off, and... damn it all if that sort of a sentence didn't make him want to go over to his house, grind Francis into a wurst and then feed him to Ludwig.

"I mean, I was sleeping at France's house. You know what I meant, right, Lovi?"

Oh, yes.

Tomorrow morning, Lovino would play soccer with Francis's head.

--

"...and _furthermore_, if you _ever_ make a pass at Antonio again I will rip out every single hair in your hideous beard in a way that will make Arthur wish that he'd done it. So _vaffanculo_, and leave us alone!" Lovino panted. He'd basically cursed at Francis from his doorstep for the past half hour while the blonde simply looked on with wide eyes.

France cleared his throat awkwardly. "Ah... if it makes it any better, I offered, but Antonio never accepted."

Lovino's eye twitched violently, and then he kicked Francis. Hard.

_Psh, seduce yourself out of THAT_.

He left Francis writhing in agony on the Frenchman's own doorstep.

And then he smiled.

--

"Whoa, Lovino! Are you okay? Did you get into a fight? Do you even know _how_ to fight? Do you need a doctor??" Spain fussed over him as the Italian disinfected some scrapes on his hands with a wince.

"Hah, you should see Francis." Spain stared at him. Romano sighed in aggravation. "It was a joke, numbskull. I tripped on the ground when I was coming home."

"Oh, so you didn't beat Francis up?" Lovino grinned maniacally.

"I never said _that_."

--

Lovino answered the door a couple of days later, only to be tackled by his insane little brother.

"Lovi~! You don't look like the living dead anymore!" The older Italian brother rolled his eyes and expertly peeled Feliciano off of himself.

"Yeah, you look great too. Now go away, or at least call first." Feliciano cocked his head to one side, looking worried.

"We did call," Romano noticed with distaste that Germany was, in fact, accompanying his younger brother, "but you never picked up."

"But the phone never rang..." Lovi said, puzzled, then a thought struck. "Wait, the phone lines were knocked out by the storm last week..."

"So _that's_ why you never answered my calls!" Both Italians blinked, that didn't come from Feliciano. They turned around to see a triumphantly grinning Spain standing there.

"Um... _scusami_, Antonio?"

The Spaniard continued to grin, as though he'd just won the lottery.

"Oh, it's nothing, Lovi dearest. Go about your day with Feliciano and Ludwig."

--

A _siesta_ came the next day, and Spain began to sit on the couch and read while Romano slept again. Lovino didn't complain.

It was easier to sleep with that familiar, soft voice crooning at him.

Not to mention, Antonio was pretty warm.

--

Another _siesta_ came and went. Lovino picked up a paintbrush and managed to knock out a rather nice landscape. Antonio came into the kitchen and began making hot cocoa, stopping to admire it. "Is that a cemetery, Lovi? Whose grave is that?"

Lovi scoffed. "It's unmarked for a reason, dumbass."

_France_. _It's fucking _France's_ grave_.

--

Lovino caught his hair in the brush again. This time, he slowed his breathing and tried not to panic. "Spain, bring me some fucking scissors."

Antonio tugged the brush gently, and the curl came out with relatively little panting and moaning. "No way, Lovi," he said cheekily, tracing it with his finger and making Lovino shiver, "it's way too much fun for me to let you cut it off."

Lovino's heart beat faster.

_Merda_..._ again?_

--

"Spain, I've come to a decision," Lovino announced at the breakfast table one day. Spain gave him his rapt attention, a _churro_ paused halfway to his mouth. He set it down on his plate.

"Okay, Lovi," Antonio replied, folding his hands together on the table and using his business voice. "What is your proposition?"

When Spain acted all businesslike like that, Romano's mouth felt dry, he licked his lips nervously. "We should... how do I put this...?" He cleared his throat and locked eyes with Antonio before his courage failed him. "_Vivi la vita in ogni suo momento_."

"Come again?" Spain asked, perplexed.

"Live life in the moment, in the present. For now. We can start over. You forget Hungary, I forget France, we can try again..." Lovi's voice and gaze faltered when he failed to elicit a response from Antonio. He blushed and his tone changed as he looked to the side.

"Because, um... I'd really... like to start again."

-----

//_End Chapter 16_

-----

"_sí_" – Spanish, "yes".

"_touché_" – French, literally "touched", but used in the sense of fencing; like a stalemate.

"wurst" – German, a kind of sausage-y thing that is made in Germany, eaten by Germans... my research for this fic is rather lacking.

"_vaffanculo_" – Italian, "go fuck yourself". Lovino has quite a mouth on him.

"_scusami_" – Italian, "excuse me". Not sure about this, there are two definitions...

"_siesta_" – Spanish/Italian, a time of the day around lunch where people drop just about everything and go home, take a nap, etc....

"_Merda_" – Italian, "Shit". As I said, quite a mouth... in his brain?

"_churro_" – Spanish, a kind of deep-fried, yummy, cinnamon-sugar stick sort of thing that is super delicious and needs more love.

"_Vivi la vita in ogni suo momento_" – Italian, "Live life in the moment", in a poetic way.

**So, does this chapter make up for things? Yes? No? Review Rangers, your verdict is...?**

**Also, WildWolfMoon94 of deviantART has gotten her FanFiction stuff to work (praise her father, justice is served to the good!), and her penname is Cry-Wolf-and-Sing. Love her, dear God, love her. If you enjoy her things half as much as I do, you're officially obsessed. Yes.**

**  
Also, Spazzkitty. I say this merely because she needs more love... and I loved seeing how majorly she freaked out when she read her name on my last chapter. Note to readers: the summary of **_**Turning the World Upside Down**_** says it's a "typical high-school AU", but it is SO far from typical that it makes me want to cry manly tears of joy. Yes.**

**I love y'all, and yes, Lovino kicked Francis where the sun don't shine. Ouch.**

**  
REVIEW RANGERS GO!!! –dramatic hero pose-**


	18. Slow and Steady

**_Dios mio_... or _mon dieu_, depending on where you're from. I'm about ready to kill myself. I can't keep to deadlines (don't worry, I don't care whether or not YOU want me to have deadlines, I'M the one who cares about the deadlines) and I think I've used up every cute plot device there is.**

**Oh, and my Spanish is Latin American Spanish. Fuck, what the hell kind of racist school do I have? I don't wanna learn Mexican Spanish, 'cos when I go to Spain, they'll be like... "Lol, American".**

**LFJDFLKSFJSDLKFJS THANK YOU FOR NOT CARING VERY MUCH, MY LOYAL READERS!!!**

**Anyway, the next installment of whatsitcalled... right... enjoy it.**

--

"_Come again?" Spain asked, somewhat confused. He was Spanish, damn it. He could understand some of the smaller Italian phrases that he'd picked up, but Lovi wasn't playing fair.  
_

"_Live life in the moment, in the present. For now. We can start over. You forget Hungary, I forget France, we can try again..." Antonio simply stared at Lovino, who had averted his eyes and started speaking very softly._

"_Because, um... I'd really... like to start again."_

--

-----

_Slow and Steady_

-----

Spain didn't answer. He really thought that he'd been doing the right thing, letting Romano do as he pleased, but if the Italian didn't want that...

He simply grinned.

"Okay, but this time, you have to court me, Lovi~!"

That earned him a sizeable lump on the back of his head.

--

"Hey, Lovino?" The Italian turned off the vacuum cleaner and came over to the Spaniard, almost irritably.

"What do you want?" Romano asked sourly.

"You- ouch..." Spain nursed a new bump on the side of his head, grinning. "I'm just kidding. Ah, but I was looking for a book just now, and I can't seem to find it... my bookshelf is out of order..." Antonio didn't miss Lovino's face turning red, and he looked guilty.

"Maybe somebody broke in... probably Mexico or Argentina again, yeah, that's it..." Spain studied him for a moment, grin widening; then he ruffled Romano's hair.

"You're so bad at lying, _chulito_. You were reading them because you missed me~!" Lovino sputtered, he must have hit the nail right on the head.

"I didn't miss you! Be-Besides, I can't read your stupid language. Do I look dumb enough to understand Spanish?" Still conjuring up insults, Romano returned to his vacuum cleaner and switched it on.

"Dye your hair green-" Spain started, an idiotic grin plastering his face.

"I can't hear you!" Lovino yelled over the grinding noise of the vacuum. Antonio doubted it.

_Lovi is such a woman_.

--

"Spain, switch beds with me," Lovino ordered one day. Antonio just shrugged and did it, he didn't even ask why.

The bed smelled like Romano, though, so he couldn't complain.

--

The doorbell rang, and it wasn't during _siesta_ time, so Spain and Romano were both awake. However, Spain was indulging in the heroic tales of Don Quixote, and waved a hand desperately, asking if Romano would please get the door. Lovino returned rather pale and asked if Antonio could please deal with their caller.

"Is it Belarus again?" Spain asked in a hushed voice, unsure if he should be fetching pepper spray or not. Not that he'd spray Belarus... after all, Natasha was a _girl_. Spanish chivalry. You know.

Romano simply shook his head, looking pretty spooked. "Please, just go..."

Antonio sighed and dog-eared his page, walking up to the door.

_I swear to god, if it's Russia_...

"Oh, hey Spain!"

Antonio stared for a bit.

Then he stared for a little bit more.

Then he burst out laughing.

"Welcome to our humble abode, Sealand!"

--

Spain, of course, wanted to see Romano as he writhed in fear of such a cute little kid and the imminent beating he would receive one day from said cute kid. So Antonio invited Peter in for lunch, and the other brightened considerably.

"Thank you so much," the blonde gushed as he stuck a forkful of some sort of pasta into his mouth. "Mom and Dad have no sense of taste... it's almost as bad as how Arthur cooks! The canned fish that Berwald likes actually starts to bulge if you leave it alone too long because of the how fermented it is!"

"W-Well, I'm glad you like it, Peter," Lovino said warily, scooting over closer towards Antonio, who did not mind a single bit. Even if he was pinching his thigh because he was a traitor.

Antonio just smiled obliviously.

--

"Oh, right. You left a pair of shoes at our house, Antonio. I'm really sorry, but Hanatamago found them before we did and he used them as a chew toy..."

Lovino smirked wickedly at him, as though this was some sort of payback for letting Peter in. Antonio simply grinned. "That's okay. Hanatamago can keep them. Just thank your parents for letting me stay the night; it was a lot nicer than the park benches, even if the house is always so cold..." Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Lovino cringe at the mention of sleeping on benches; that one little detail really seemed to bother him.

"Okay, I'll tell them! Also, Mom said it was nice having company, he said you can come over any time you like," Sealand added as he stood up.

"Thanks, but I think we'll pass," Spain returned, sticking his tongue out a little in mock disgust. Sealand laughed.

"Yeah, I wish I could get away from the food too... thanks for lunch!"

"¡_Adiós_!"

--

"Hey, Antonio... did you really have to sleep on benches at night while you were gone?" Lovino asked that night when they were both snug in bed. Antonio smiled softly, though the Italian couldn't see it. Just like Romano to be worried about something as small as that.

"Don't even think about it, my dear," Spain said gently, trying to make him forget about it.

He didn't know when Lovino had gotten out of bed, but now he was shaking him. Antonio blinked in surprise.

"Stop saying things like that, you bastard! I worry about you! _Merda_... I worried, okay...? I need to know, and I want you to stop treating me like a child! I can deal with it..." Lovino hissed, changing moods and tones like the fast-moving currents of the Adriatic Sea. Antonio blinked again, and his features turned understanding.

Spain moved over in the bed a little bit, inviting Romano in. The Italian did so, but not without some huffing. Antonio kissed him once Lovino had settled.

"You cursed again."

"We're not doing that anymore!"

"I didn't say that was why I kissed you."

Antonio ruffled his hair, and Lovino didn't even complain.

--

"...shut up Spain, I don't want to wake up..." Lovino batted him away with his hands, and Antonio just laughed. "Just go back to sleep..."

"Aw, is little Lovi asking me to sleep with him?" Antonio teased.

"Get away from me, you pervert...!"

"Dye your hair green, Lovi..."

"Wait, what time is it?" the Italian asked, sitting up suddenly. "Three in the afternoon?? How did that happen?"

Antonio grinned and shrugged. "The magic of love...?"

Lovino threw the pillow at him.

--

They had their _siesta_ about an hour afterwards, since it was so late already. Lovino told Antonio to just go ahead and sit on the couch while he finished up an oil painting, he'd be over in a minute.

The Spaniard situated himself with a poetry book, hearing the water in the sink run as Lovino washed his hands. The Italian padded over and pushed Antonio over towards one end of the couch, where he moved, a bit confused.

Lovino lay down, and pulled a blanket over himself, setting his head in Antonio's lap and mumbling something. Antonio smiled softly. Lovi had to be about the cutest thing he'd ever laid eyes on.

He ran his fingers through the Italian's hair and began his crooning, setting his book down on the table. Antonio let out a sigh.

"I could get used to this..."

He could have sworn he'd heard a muffled "Me too."

But that's selective perception for you.

-----

//_End Chapter 17_

-----

"_chulito_" – Spanish, something akin to "cutie". I'm not sure, I pretty much guess now...

"_siesta_" – Spanish/Italian, a time of day after lunch in which people drop everything and just do their THAAAAANG.

"¡_Adiós_!" – Spanish, "Goodbye!".

"_Merda_" – Italian, "damn"... or is it "shit"? I can't quite remember anymore... generic curse?

**Also, I'm going to Maine on Friday, I don't remember when I'll be back. I'll be writing an omake next chapter... please, whatever pairing you like, just say the word...**

**I've been trying to dig up some SuFin, but I haven't had much luck... I think I get it a little better now, though.**

**KILL ME PLEASE LOL.**


	19. Omake 2: Sweden x Finland

**Okay, readers; since I could only find one or two Hetalia comics containing Sweden and/or Finland and am not too good at them, I need you to bear with me. This omake is set after Sweden and Finland have been together a while, and they've also had Sealand for a while. But Hanatamago is still puppy-ish. If that timeline makes any sense.**

**Well, here goes...**

-----

_Omake 2: Sweden x Finland_

-----

Berwald looked up at his adopted son as Peter skipped through the door and slammed it behind himself. "Mom, Dad, I'm home!"

"_Välkomm'n_," the Swede greeted from the living room, not bothering to rise. He was a bit too busy reading, to be honest; and it was Sealand's habit to tackle Finland first when he returned home. Sweden would be safe for a while.

"I'm Tino, not Mom," the Fin called from the kitchen. "Say it with me, Ti-no." This was where Sealand would roll his eyes and say something like "Okay, Mom." Then Tino would say, "I heard that!" As he said this, Tino would walk out of the kitchen with a stern look on his face and a twinkle in his eye, tapping Peter on the head with a spatula or a wooden spoon of some sort.

A smile quirked at the edges of Berwald's lips as the scene played out before him. He knew his little family so well. Sweden was pretty sure that Finland couldn't even hear Sealand when he would call him "Mom" for the second time, but surely, Tino had become accustomed to the routine as well.

Hanatamago started tugging on Berwald's pants leg, and the Swede folded up his newspaper and stood up. After a few seconds, Tino would call him in for lunch and Peter would feed the dog scraps under the table.

"Berwald, lunchtime!"

Sweden sighed contentedly. There was a routine, definitely; but it wasn't at all monotonous. In fact, the routine made the differences from day to day that much more exciting.

--

"So, Peter, _mitä uutta_?" Finland asked as they ate, pointedly ignoring the fact that Sealand was feeding Hanatamago his lunch.

"I went to go see Antonio and Lovino today, they're doing great! Antonio said thanks for letting him stay over." Tino positively beamed at that, and Berwald couldn't help but think how cute his 'wife' was. "I had lunch at their house though; sorry, Mom." Berwald didn't think he _sounded_ very sorry. But that was okay. More of Tino's delicious cooking for him. "Antonio said that Hanatamago can keep his shoes."

The puppy barked at that and scurried off. Finland laughed.

"...Mom, do I still have to eat this?" Sealand asked worriedly.

"Yes, dear; every bite."

Finland could be very menacing when he wanted to be.

--

Tino removed Berwald's glasses as the Swede settled into bed, giving him a quick peck on the cheek. Finland had once told him that he was "much less scary" when he wasn't wearing his glasses, so he didn't mind. "Thanks..."

The Fin smiled softly and wrapped his arms around his bedmate. "No problem, Su-Su."

They lay there for a moment.

Then, "Su-Su, remember how afraid of you I used to be?" Berwald smiled slightly at that; straight to the point and blunt. Tino must have picked it up from being near him so often.

"Yeah. You 'lways used to stutter. I think having Pet'r around's been good for you." The Swede ruffled Tino's hair playfully and kissed him on the forehead, and the smaller one sighed happily, turning off the lamp to their side.

"Good night, Su-Su..."

"_Dröm s'tt_."

--

Peter jolted out the door the next morning, before Berwald could stop him. Sweden yawned and rubbed an eye, looking at the childishly written note on the table.

_Mom and Dad-_

_I'm going to Latvia's house for the day. Also, I fed Hanatamago this morning._

_-Peter_

_P.S. Please don't come after me._

_P.P.S. Mom, please don't save me any leftovers, I'm having dinner with Latvia._

The Swede made some sort of noise, leaving the note on the table for Finland to find.

Tino would take care of Peter later.

--

"Ooh, when he gets back here, I'm going to kill him. Just leaving a note... couldn't be bothered to ask if he can go..." Tino grumbled over breakfast, blonde hair in slight disarray. Finland never was much of a morning person. Sweden sighed.

"D'you know why he didn't tell us that he was leav'ng?" Finland shook his head, still a little mad at Sealand. "We have the house to 'rselves for the day," Sweden drawled, a hint of a smirk at the corners of his mouth.

"They have a word for people like you, Su-Su," Tino mock-pouted, crossing his arms.

"I jus' want to spend quality time with my wife, 's all."

--

Berwald was sitting at the kitchen table, eyeing the front door when Peter snuck in and clicked the door quietly shut. Sealand jumped at seeing his 'father' sitting there (after all, Sweden was sort of intimidating), but then calmed down.

"Where's Mom?"

"'sleep."

"Why are you still awake?"

"T'make sure you eat your dinner. Finland made it special."

Though he wasn't a sadist by any means, Berwald did enjoy watching Peter make those unattractive faces as he ate his wife's amazing cooking.

After all, how could somebody related to England possibly appreciate the mastery of a true Finnish dinner?

--

Finland didn't bring it up the next morning, and Sealand ran outside as soon as he'd finished feeding his breakfast to Hanatamago so he could play with Latvia. Sweden brought their plates up to the sink. "How're you feelin'?"

Tino sighed. "I'm still a little sore, but it's okay, Su-Su." He gave a bright smile, but Berwald still felt a little bad.

"'ll finish cleaning the house today."

The Fin pulled the Swede down by the shirt as he passed by, planting a kiss on his cheek. "_Kiitos paljon_."

"_Jag älsk'r dig_."

--

Berwald came home from grocery shopping one day to find Tino, half-naked in the kitchen. Not that he minded, but that was kind of strange.

"T'no?" The Fin turned around sourly, with a fluffy white bundle of towel in his arms.

"Welcome home, Berwald." The bundle of towel barked.

"You gave Hanatam'go a bath?" Finland nodded distastefully. "Why are you so ann'yed?"

"He who has never tasted soap has never washed a dog."

Sweden let out a bark of laughter and ruffled Finland's hair, making the other nation smile a bit. The towel fell out of Tino's arms and onto the floor, rolling around for a bit before a dizzy, fluffy white puppy shook it off, yipping away.

This was the kind of day he liked best, even if Tino _did_ smell like wet dog.

-----

//_End Omake 2_

-----

"_Välkomm'n_," – Swedish, "Welc'me". Not sure how to define these properly.

"_mitä uutta?_" – Finnish, "what's new?".

"_Dröm s'tt_" – Swedish, "Sw't dreams". I think. Ah, dear...

"_Kiitos paljon_" – Finnish, "Thank you".

"_Jag älsk'r dig_" – Swedish, "I l've you". Seriously. Why me.

**Gah, feel free to shoot me. They're so OOC.**

**Oh, and Sweden and Finland don't have passionate nights of whatever, they make love.**

**I said that with a straight face, fear me.**

**Review Rangers... time to grill me for that!**

**Also, if you haven't been reading my Authors' Notes, start here: I'm going to Maine first thing tomorrow morning for about a week, so that means no updates for a while. Remember those authoresses I recommended? Go read their stuff; it'll tide you over, you poor souls.**

**Cry-Wolf-and-Sing**

**Spazzkitty**

**Ferix88**

**Thank you for bearing with me!**


	20. Dripping with Denial

**Wait, I know this place! This is... where is it... oh yeah! ! This is that place where I write things that people actually READ once in a while!**

**  
Well, I am back from Maine (which was an awesome trip with my awesome friend Helen, who is just about as awesome as Prussia), and I smell like dogs! Hoo-ray!**

**Getting back into writing was sorta hard, but I feel like it's an almost seamless return, so you can yell at me if you want.**

**Please enjoy the new installment of **_**Ahora Podeis Besar al Novio**_**!**

--

_Antonio lightly carded his fingers through Lovino's hair and began humming softly, making Lovi sleepy; regardless of the fact that they'd already slept in until three. He nuzzled his head into Spain's lap, trying to do so covertly in case the Spaniard thought he was cuddling._

"_I could get used to this..." The whispered confession interrupted the lolling lullaby, and Antonio's hand trailed down to rest between Lovino's shoulder blades, making the younger man relax, almost involuntarily. His eyelids were pretty heavy by now._

"_Me too..." the Italian mumbled into the Spaniard's leg, falling asleep before the other could confirm that he'd spoken._

--

-----

_Dripping with Denial_

-----

"How did I get roped into this stupid date again...?" Lovino grumbled, arms crossed irately.

"Well, _técnicamente_, _Lovinito_, it's a double date. And it's for your friend Elizavita, so stop complaining," Antonio replied in a whisper. The Italian scoffed back at him.

"Well, _tecnicamente_, it's a five-way date ever since Roderich got here. Who knew he would have balls enough to ruin a four-way date?" Romano pondered aloud, earning a glare from Austria.

"I can hear you, I hope you know," the latter said with a sniff, obviously offended.

"I _really_ care, I hope you know," the former replied sarcastically, obviously not caring.

"Now, now, Lovi; don't pick fights you can't win," the former's boyfriend added nervously, eyeing the high-collar nation that had previously beaten the snot out of him. Lovino could _hear_ Gilbert's stupid grin from where he was sitting.

Yeah, that's right.

Hungary was laughing awkwardly. Though Romano was still slightly pissed at her for her actions a month and a half ago, he couldn't imagine how horrible this must be for her.

Prussia hits on Hungary; she beats him up.

He asks her out, she freaks and suggests a double date.

She calls them up with an anxious tone in her voice, and Spain is just too damned _eager_ to help out.

So now, she was on a date with a guy who may not be right in the head, sitting across from two guys whose lives she made hell for about a month, including one who had verbally threatened her and the other who she had kissed for no reason at all other than to cause said hell.

Then what should progress but her jealous (Lovino could see it in his eyes, even if he _was_ acting like a prick for his nature) ex-husband happens upon the group and seats himself so that Elizaveta is sandwiched in between said jealous ex and said guy who may not be right in the head.

Lovino sighed.

He could have spent his _siesta_ back at home, sleeping in Antonio's lap.

--

The date ended rather eventfully. Romano and Spain stood up after the first insult was thrown, and stepped away from the table after the first punch was thrown. The two escaped quickly, missing the entire second half in which Austria pulled Prussia's hair almost out of his head and Prussia broke Austria's glasses with a well-aimed punch.

Sometime during the fourth quarter, Hungary had tired of trying to reason with them and wandered off somewhere, only to come back with a frying pan from the kitchen, knocking them both in the back of the head and causing them both to pass out.

Lovino, after hearing about it over the phone from Elizaveta, was glad that his Italian fleeing senses were working at lunch.

--

The next day during _siesta_, after finishing a rough sketch, Lovi came into the living room to find that Antonio had fallen asleep where he usually sat, a heavy-looking book lay on the floor, open; and some pages had been bent from the impact. Lovino picked it up, straightening the pages as well as he could and closing the tome, sliding it onto the low table in front of the couch.

_He's been really tired lately_... _I wonder if it's Pamplona wearing him out?_

Romano bent and studied the other for a moment; he hadn't seen Spain sleep in a long time. Usually, they slept in separate beds; and when they did sleep together, it was mostly during thunderstorms. Regardless of the noise, Lovino always fell asleep first. Antonio would wake first every morning, usually making breakfast for him.

When he was still a servant, Romano had to wake Spain up every day; but at the time he was so busy being pissed off that he was wearing a dress and up so early, he didn't pay attention to the other; choosing to smack the Spaniard with a broom until said Spaniard chose to wake up. Recently, Antonio had been waking up earlier than Lovino and fallen asleep far after the Italian.

Romano sighed softly, tracing Spain's warm, olive cheek with feather light fingertips.

_He's actually kind of cute when he's asleep_...

Lovino's eyes widened and he shook his head quickly to kill the thought, face flaming up quickly.

_Where the hell did that come from?! Spain's not cute!_

He removed his hand from Antonio's face quickly, grabbing the quilt from the back of the couch and throwing it over the Spaniard with a huff.

_I guess I can start painting my sketch after all_...

Lovino kissed Antonio's forehead as an afterthought and mumbled an embarrassed "_Sogni d'oro_" before returning to the kitchen to paint.

--

After staring at his sketch for a good twenty minutes or so, Lovino decided that he wasn't going to paint because his muse was temporarily napping and his brain wasn't quite functioning on the artistic side. Instead, he grabbed a light jacket and walked out to the backyard, which was making a nice comeback since that horrible storm weeks ago.

Since he couldn't sleep inside, he laid the coat on the grass and looked up at the clouds. In typical Iberian fashion, it was very hot, but there was a cool breeze whispering through the grass and trees that managed to lull Lovino to sleep in minutes.

--

"Lovino... _Lovinito_... Lovi! Wake up!" The Italian opened an eye in drowsy irritation to the Spanish man shaking him awake.

"What?" A fat drop of rain fell on his cheek.

"_Esta lloviendo_," Antonio laughed, kissing him on the nose.

"So it is," Lovino replied, for lack of a better response.

--

Because drying his hair off was out of the question due to his curly cowlick, the Italian had to wear a fluffy bath robe around the house when he was wet. Unfortunately, that excuse didn't hold much water when used to explain the fuzzy slippers he was wearing as well.

After a hot shower and a cup of spicy Spanish cocoa, Antonio finally stopped teasing Lovino for falling asleep and getting rained on. Romano didn't really mind much, he was used to this. He was just glad that Spain wasn't as tired as he had been earlier; he seemed much more vibrant and alive.

Vivid green eyes danced as Antonio smiled at Lovino, and the Italian could feel his face heating up rapidly. "Stop looking at me like that," he demanded childishly.

Spain simply blinked. "Like what?"

Romano flushed, too embarrassed to explain. "Just stop it!"

Antonio grinned in realization and clutched at his heart. "What? Stop gazing at you in a love stricken fashion? What felony you would have me commit, my dear Lovino!" he replied dramatically, making said "dear Lovino" roll his eyes.

"_Mamma mia_..." Romano kicked Spain under the kitchen table when he started to hum the song, and the latter made a sound of mock pain. Lovino's head rolled with his eyes this time, so sarcastic was his response. "Pffft, yeah right. Like I would believe that, you Spanish bastard. My fuzzy slippers injured you, definitely. You wimp."

"I'm hurt that you would say that, Lovi!" Antonio held a hand to his chest as though shocked, and Lovino let out an aggravated sigh.

"Yeah, yeah, I've heard it before... I told you to stop looking at me like that!"

-----

//_End Chapter 18_

-----

"_técnicamente_" – Spanish, "technically".

"_tecnicamente_" – Italian, "technically".

"_siesta_" – Spanish/Italian, a time of the day during and after lunch in which people stop doing productive things to take a nap or indulge in a hobby.

"_Sogni d'oro_" - Italian, "Sweet dreams".

"_Esta lloviendo_" – Spanish, "It's raining". Obvious Spain is obvious.

"_Mamma mia_" – Italian, literally "(my) mother", but is the equivalent of the English "Oh my God". Also alluding to the song _Mamma Mia_, which I believe was first sung by Abba?

**Aha! Finished it! Well, Rangers?**

**  
Thank you so much for being so patient and waiting for this, I know that some of you are probably dying because you've been missing your fix... unless you've been reading Spazzkitty's stuff.**

**  
That's right; I mentioned your name again. Please, squeal, scream, whatever.**

**I'm sorry I didn't reply to reviews this time around, if I did, I wouldn't have gotten this out today. I swear. But thank you all so much for reviewing; you have no idea how happy it makes me to hear what you think! And I know some of you think it's tacky, but I actually love it when you quote and cite in your reviews, it's good to know which parts you enjoyed specifically.**

**Also, a quick poll: I had a burst of inspiration right before I left to go to Maine and started writing an XXX scene for this a couple of chapters... okay, a lot of chapters in advance. Do you guys think I should actually put in some descriptive Spain x Romano loving in here? How many of you can actually read it?**

**...HAHAHA, HOW MANY OF YOU CAN READ IT. Fuck. I'm 14; I'm not supposed to be WRITING it, for Pete's sake.**

**Well, if all goes my way, there should be a new chapter tomorrow. Toodles, all! I love you~!**


	21. Clear Skies and Starry Nights

**You have no idea how much of a pain this chapter was. It was a stubborn brat through and through; it just wouldn't write itself. FJDSLFJDSLJK**

**I'm sorry about how delayed this was! Here's a timeline!**

**1.) I post Ch. 18, say I'll probably post the next day; maybe not.**

**2.) My friend Helen comes over for a sleepover that day, I don't write the chapter.**

**3.) She doesn't leave until midday the next day.**

**4.) I am banned from the computer until today because I left my music on and kept my sisters awake.**

**Anyway, asides from that, this chapter really is not the best. Or the second best. Whatever floats your boat, I hope you like it.**

**Enjoy this installment of **_**Ahora Podeis Besar al Novio**_**. Please. I slaved over it.**

--

"_Mamma mia..." Spain began to hum the song to annoy Romano and seemed to succeed, since he was kicked in the shin. Antonio let out a small whimper of mock pain, and Lovino rolled his eyes. "Pffft, yeah right. Like I would believe that, you Spanish bastard. My fuzzy slippers injured you, definitely. You wimp."_

"_I'm hurt that you would say that, Lovi!" Spain said exuberantly, making Romano sigh in annoyance. Antonio just smiled at him; really, Lovi was so cute._

"_Yeah, yeah, I've heard it before... I told you to stop looking at me like that!"_

--

-----

_Clear Skies and Starry Nights_

-----

Spain stared blankly at the glass of _Amontillado_ in his hand, swirling it slightly and watching the sherry swirl around. He smiled the smile of a bitter somebody who is tired of life before downing the remaining contents.

_Another glass wouldn't hurt much_...

He struggled to uncork a third bottle in his foggy state of mind. Antonio didn't get drunk easily, but he was a sad drunk. By the time he was intoxicated, he was always so depressed that he couldn't really bring himself to stop.

Normally he would drink _Amontillado_ slightly chilled, but by the time he'd poured the next glass, it had been room temperature for a while. Spain stared at the full glass and decided that he didn't even want it anymore.

He laid his head on the table and dwelled on why he was such a pathetic character.

--

Antonio didn't even hear the front door slam closed, but he did hear Lovino's call of "Spain, I'm home". He rolled his head to stare at a nearby wall and heard the Italian pad into the kitchen doorway, pause, and then walk over to his side; his steps slower this time.

"Spain?" The Spaniard didn't lift his head. He could hear one of the empty bottles clink against the table as Romano inspected the label. "Antonio, what happened?" Lovino asked softly, sounding concerned.

"Pamplona," Antonio responded, thinking about it for a moment or so.

"Is that so?" the voice asked again, from behind him. The Spaniard could hear the quiet scrape of the bottom of the glass against the mahogany surface of the table, and he felt a slightly damp arm brush against his neck as the Italian pushed the sherry away.

"A man died... it's just a little prick for each death, but..." Antonio exhaled shakily and continued, "...just knowing that it's a tradition like this killing my people, even if it's just once every decade or so..." The Spaniard breathed out heavily, shoulders falling.

Seemingly hesitant, Lovino wrapped his arms around Antonio from behind.

"It's not your fault," Romano said after a couple of minutes of doing nothing but sharing warmth. Spain relaxed and turned to kiss the other softly.

Hearing it from Lovino made it much more believable.

"_Gracias_, Lovi," he mumbled against the Italian's lips, making the other flush.

"You taste like alcohol..." Romano offered, trying to sound annoyed.

Spain took the opportunity to smile wearily. "_Lo siento_."

"It's okay. Don't worry yourself with trivial things."

--

When Spain woke up the next morning, the first thing he noticed was a glass of water and two pain killers sitting innocently on the table next to his bed.

The second thing he noticed was his hangover. It felt as though there was a tiny midget inside of his skull, banging away with a hammer, or perhaps driving a steam drill.

He sat up groggily, causing the damp towel that had been on his forehead to slide down, and he wondered when that had gotten there. In fact, when had he gotten to bed?

As Antonio downed the medicine and water, he decided not to think about it. After all, thoughts would just feed the headache; and Spain would not let a bad hangover defeat him.

--

Spain didn't see Romano until the next day, though each of his meals had been left next to the bed whenever he woke up. He felt much better, thanks to a certain Italian, and he settled himself on the couch, awaiting his boyfriend.

Lovino entered with a frown on his face, as per usual.

"Thank you, Lovi." As the Italian lay down, he scoffed at Antonio.

"You're cooking for the rest of the week."

"I know."

--

Despite how cheery he usually was, Antonio hated world conferences.

"...and that, my fellow nations, is why we should exterminate the platypus; an obvious product of pre-historical stem cell research," America finished with a grin. Everybody stared at him incredulously.

This was precisely why.

"Alfred, you're off your onion," England said slowly; voicing everybody's thoughts with a very exasperated tone of voice and a strange way of wording things. America rolled his eyes, arms crossed.

"Arthur, shut up, nobody cares what you think." England leaned over the table slightly to glare at America.

"Stop being a prat, you ninny." Now Alfred was the one with an incredulous look on his face.

"What the hell? Speak English, nobody can understand you!" Antonio could have sworn that Arthur's eye twitched right there. Francis piped in, saying that he didn't speak English because French was better (in perfect English, of course), and Vash covered Kiku's mouth with a hand before he could say anything that would set them off even farther.

"I _am_ speaking English! The _Queen's_ English! Perhaps you should try it once in a while." Alfred looked about ready to punch the Brit, the latter already pulling a fist back; and Antonio tried to separate them before there was a fight.

"_Por favor_, can we not do this? Just for this one meeting?" Spain tried, but the blondes were past furious.

"Oh, go to hell, you dago," Arthur spit, never removing his eyes from Alfred's.

"You can't call him that!" Somebody pulled England back from the other side of the table, making him smash his chin on the tabletop. Because of this, America missed him and hit Switzerland in the face.

Spain grabbed Romano and hid under the table, yelling "Hit the deck!" as bullets started raining down on the table.

Yes, Antonio _really_ hated world conferences.

--

"Okay, okay! Stop yelling at me, Lovi," Spain said, handing over a bag of ice for the smaller nation. Though the Spaniard had managed to make it through the meeting unscathed, the Italian had managed to get a massive bruise on his forearm which had already begun to turn purple.

"Stupid America... one day I'm going to get the mafia to cap that idiot," Romano remarked, forming a gun with his fingers for emphasis. As he placed the ice, Spain could see the other wince slightly.

"I'll go get a roll of bandages for you... I'm sorry you got hurt," Antonio soothed, kissing Lovino on the forehead.

"Pffft... not your fault..."

Spain smiled and ruffled Romano's hair; then went to find something to wrap the ice with.

--

"When it comes to food, you shop like a woman; Lovi." That got him slapped with the Italian's good arm. Antonio smiled though, because it was true. Since Romano had deemed himself unable to carry his own groceries, Spain had been forced to pick up the slack (and Southern Italy's bags).

Since Lovino was the only one picking out food now, Antonio could see how choosy the Italian truly was when it came to cuisine. No tomatoes that can't fit in your hand, and if your fingertips can touch your palm, it's too small. Other food had similar restrictions and regulations, and Spain had to roll his eyes. It had never taken this long to shop, and his arms were falling asleep.

"Oi, Spain; we're done, let's go." Antonio breathed a sigh of relief and shifted the bags, sincerely hoping that he could make it home without dropping everything.

--

Antonio had a thing for stars. They were bright, hot and constant; the perfect metaphor for his passionate spirit. Unfortunately for him, Lovino did not seem to share this love of the celestial pinpricks of light.

"Spain, why are we outside? It's _freezing_." Spain rolled his eyes, still grinning lopsidedly after dragging the Italian to the backyard. Romano was exaggerating, of course; seeing as Spanish nights were not at all freezing, so the Spaniard ignored the complaint.

"But the sky is so clear and the stars are so bright!" Antonio exclaimed, waving his arms around for emphasis.

"And...?" The Italian pushed, still aggravated. Spain's grin faltered for a minute.

"It's romantic?" Romano heaved a sigh of irritation, turning around.

"I'm going back inside." Antonio grabbed his wrist, making him turn to face the Spaniard again.

"Please stay with me, Lovino?" Spain pleaded. The Italian glared back.

"I don't want to!" Antonio let go of him, and Lovino drew his arm back to himself, turning back around.

"_Te voy a echar de menos_," Antonio whispered softly. Lovi visibly paused and stiffened at the door; then threw it open and slammed it. The Spaniard sighed and lay down on the grass, folding his arms behind his head. He had really wanted to share this with Lovino.

_What a let down_...

--

About an hour later, the back door opened and closed again. Spain had dozed off once or twice, but he was awake now. He tilted his head back and saw Romano walking back through the grass.

"_Hola_," Antonio greeted simply. Lovino grunted back at him.

"I realized why stars annoy me so much," the Italian said after a moment, sourly. Spain put his head back in the grass, as though to signal that he was listening, and Romano began. "Stars are bright and annoying, they hurt my eyes. Everybody else thinks they're so great, but they're just part of life. Kind of like you."

Spain tilted his head back again and smiled at Romano.

"I just said you're annoying! Stop smiling, you're supposed to be offended!" Antonio stood up and stretched, ruffling Lovino's hair.

"Whatever you say, _mi cielo_." He walked back towards the door, that contented grin still stretched across his face.

"Annoying like the stars at night," Romano added again, trying to explain. Spain turned back; the younger nation had the cutest blush on his cheeks.

"I know," he reminded the Italian, turning on his heels again.

"..._la mia stella_," Antonio thought he heard.

For once, he didn't demand that the Italian repeat himself.

-----

//_End Chapter 19_

-----

"_Mamma mia_" – Italian, literally "My mother", but akin to the English phrase, "Oh my God".

"_Amontillado_" – Spanish, a kind of red sherry; if I remember correctly. Usually served with food (but when isn't alcohol served with food) slightly chilled. The sherry, not the food.

"_Gracias_" – Spanish, "Thank you".

"_Lo siento_" – Spanish, "I'm sorry".

"off your onion" – English (UK), a phrase to say something like "crazy". Substitutions include "off your nut" or "off your rocker".

"prat" – English (UK), "idiot".

"ninny" – English (UK), also sort of like "idiot". Really, England and their insults.

"_Por favor_" – Spanish, "Please".

"dago" – English (UK), slang for a Spaniard. Not exactly nice. **(A/N: Did you know that the term is used for Spaniards in the UK, but in America it's used for Italians? What the hell? XD)**

"_Te voy a echar de menos_" – Spanish, "I'm going to miss you".

"_Hola_" – Spanish, "Hello".

"_mi cielo_" – Spanish, "my sky" or "my Heaven"; used as an endearment. It fits.

"_la mia stella_" – Italian, "my star".

**Review Rangers! Time to chide me! Come on, now! How horrible was my Spanish? Italian? Sentence structure? Did I cliché things?**

**-sigh-**

**Anyway, isn't that a long list of terms? Woah.  
**

**ALRIGHT, the perverts have won out, there will be an X chapter. But not the stuff I've already written (does not contain the emotions I'm going for) and many, many chapters away. I mean, a long way away.**

**Uploader's life points have become zero. \(^o^)/**


	22. Adrift With Fear

**Okay, because some of the complaints I received were about me and my authors' notes, I'll keep most of them to the end of the chapter; but first, I'd like to make a public apology to those who offered their constructive criticism. I took it childishly, and it was wrong of me. I'm especially sorry to Honesty, who... really, I could have been a lot nicer to. Though I don't know why you who hate this story continue reading.**

--

"_Annoying like the stars at night," Lovino stuttered, trying in vain to explain how comparing Antonio to the stars was NOT a compliment and was, in fact, an insult._

"_I know," Spain replied immediately, crushing the Italian's chance to reclaim his dignity. Romano blushed and huffed, crossing his arms._

"_...__la mia stella__," he whispered out to nobody in particular, rubbing his arms to relieve the tension in his muscles._

--

-----

_Adrift With Fear_

-----

Lovino was still considerably pissed off at Elizaveta for what she had done a couple of months ago, and she had kept her distance ever since Antonio had threatened her.

The Italian's eye twitched irritably. How he had gotten into this mess, he would never know.

"Please let me talk to you, Lovi? I need your help with something," the Hungarian girl begged. And who was Southern Italy to refuse? After all, she _was_ kneeling on Spain's doorstep.

And Romano thought he had seen a frying pan on her way to begging on her knees.

"Fine, I'll talk to you. But you can't call me Lovi. It's 'Lovino', 'Romano', or you have to get out."

--

"...so, do you understand my predicament?" Hungary asked as she finished her tale which was _supposed_ to be filled with woe and sadness.

"So Austria and Prussia are still fighting with each other over you?" Romano summarized, receiving a nod from the other. "Why is this so difficult for you? You're still mooning over Austria, right? Pick him!" Lovino massaged his forehead, women made no sense at all. How he'd ever thought them attractive was a mystery to him now.

"But Lovino..." The Italian rolled his eyes at the whining note in her voice and took a sip of water. "It's not as easy as you think," Elizaveta complained.

"What's there to choose from? Obsessive and wacky or obsessive and a prude! Make a choice," Lovino demanded, "because either way you get stuck with a potato-loving freak of nature." Elizaveta let out a groan of aggravation, running a hand through her hair.

"Look, okay? I like Austria because he treats me like a lady..." Hungary paused here, and Romano hoped that she'd just chosen one of them already, since this conversation had dragged on far too long for his tastes. "But I like Prussia because he treats me like a _woman_," Elizaveta said with the most maniacal grin on her face that Lovino had ever seen on a human being, and he spit out some water at the explanation.

"Too much information, Eliza..."

"How come you can call me Eliza but I can't call you Lovi?" Romano gulped as Hungary raised an eyebrow skeptically. He had to get her out of here before she started asking more important questions.

Also, it probably wouldn't be a good idea to let Spain see her.

--

Lovino stared incredulously at the idiot before him, who was smiling brightly.

"I decided to name him _Doloroso_ because he's a snapper." As if to demonstrate, the large, green-shelled beast stretched out its neck and attempted to chomp down on Antonio's finger, but the Spaniard pulled away just in time. "Can we keep him, Lovi?"

The Italian blinked twice and breathed out, as though this was a common occurrence. "Get the turtle out of the bathtub and put it back where it came from," he instructed; voice tight with the strain to keep it normal.

"But Lovi, he has your pretty eyes!"

"Yes, and he's got a mouth like Vash. I said _back where it came from_."

--

When Lovino picked up his phone for the thirteenth time that day, he was very tired of his ring tone. Romano was no good with technology, and it used to be just a very annoying 'beep beep beep BEEP beep beep beeeeep', which he happened to prefer very much to his current sound.

_Mamma mia,_

_Here I go again,_

_My, my_

_How can I resist you?_

After annoying Romano with his humming of that _blasted_ song, Spain had thought it funny to change his cell phone around while he innocently slept on the couch. Of course, Lovino was anything but amused. Now he had to listen to that ridiculous song dozens of times a day, and his background was a tomato. A big, ripe, juicy tomato.

Damn him. Whenever Lovi looked at his phone, he suddenly became starving. It was enough to make him cry. Why make a man suffer like this?

Grumbling, Lovino flipped the cell open; hoping to all that was heavenly that it wasn't Feliciano again, giving him status updates of his relationship. Eleven of the calls he'd received today had been just that, with one more from a telemarketer selling turtles.

_Now_ he knew where _Doloroso_ had come from.

"Lovi?"

Lovino cursed quietly, he'd forgotten that the phone was open. Oh, how he hated talking to people.

"What is it this time, Feli?" Lovino held the phone away from his ear as his younger brother squealed like a girl or a pig; or perhaps a mixture of both.

"You called me a nickname! It's our brotherly bond! I _knew_ we had one!" The older Italian brother sighed loudly, lowering the volume.

"Yeah, yeah, great, we're related. What else is new?"

"_Ve_... I was just wondering if you wanted to hit the beach with me later?" Romano's eyes practically gleamed.

"Sure!"

--

Of course, nobody had taken it upon themselves to tell Lovino that Ludwig and Antonio would be accompanying them. He managed to complain about it the entire way down, not missing the way that Antonio seemed to be staring at him like a piece of meat. He didn't see what was so appealing, he did sleep _in the nude_, this should_ not_ be something new to him.

As they crossed the border between itchy, indigenous, sandy grass and the sandy spread, Feliciano bolted ahead like a five year old on his first trip to the candy store. He had forced Ludwig to carry all of the things he had brought (on a whim, Lovino was sure), and the German looked almost like a pack mule.

Romano smiled. Maybe his brother really _was_ good at causing Germans misery.

Spain broke his happiness by yelling, "_Felicianito_! _Lovinito_ is smiling! It's your chance to force him to make sand castles with you!"

Reminded of Antonio and how the Spaniard was out to get him, Lovino was dragged over without much grace to where Feliciano had set up shop with a bucket, a shovel, and a dream.

_Gag me with a shovel_.

He sighed as his immature brother began patting a mound of sand into a very realistic tower turret. Damn him and his artistic ability.

"...can we go swimming after this?" Romano asked offhandedly, trying not to sound too interested. Italy beamed at him with a nod, making him want to die all that much more.

At least there would be something to look forward to after the madness.

--

Romano was great at swimming. This was understandable, seeing as he was the peninsula of the conjoined country. However, he took great pride in his ability to swim. Swimming was the one thing he was better at than his brother.

So when Feliciano disappeared while they were a couple of meters out from shore, Lovino worried.

A lot.

No matter where he searched, he didn't seem able to find him. The idiot didn't drown; Lovino knew, otherwise he would have heard Feliciano begging the ocean gods to spare him because he had dolphin relatives or some other nonsense like that.

The only thing that calmed Lovi's nerves was that Feliciano couldn't die.

As a nation personified, he couldn't die unless his actual country was conquered and destroyed by another country or some other inexplicable disaster. His brother was alive, but still missing.

--

Lovino swam around until his skin went numb. He checked in the little cove-side caves and the places that were drowned in high tide, and he climbed some of the steeper cliff ledges to get a better view to find him. Feliciano was nowhere to be found.

"Lovi, he isn't anywhere. We won't find him, and the sun's going down. The crabs and sharks come out at night. We can come back tomorrow," Spain pleaded, sounding particularly desperate. Romano sighed. If Spain thought it was hopeless, it probably was.

"Okay, you win; but we're coming back as soon as it's light out..." Lovino trailed off, feeling dizzy.

"Romano, are you alright?" The voice sounded fuzzy. Lovi guessed he'd just swallowed too much seawater.

"I'm fine, you stupid potato..." he replied angrily.

And with that, Lovino Vargas promptly passed out beside a once-proud sandcastle that had been washed away by the sea.

-----

//_End Chapter 20_

-----

"..._la mia stella_" – Italian, "...my star".

"_Doloroso_" – Spanish, "Painful". Because snapping turtles snap. OM NOM NOM OH LOOK A FINGER.

"_Mamma mia_..." – Reference to a song sung by Abba. It's a good song.

"_Ve_" – A strange sound made by Northern Italy... we don't know why he does it.

**Okay, so the customer is always right, right? Well, I'm supposed to be playing the nice hostess (authoress) who refills your drink whenever you hit the halfway mark, but instead I played the snarky waiter(bitch) after somebody said there was a fly(epic fail) in their soup (fanfiction). Do you follow?**

**Anyway, I'm very, very sorry about how I've acted; and I know I was childish to do what I did and say what I said, and perhaps more childish to put this here as well, but at least my conscious will be clearer for it. That's right, it's right there. You can use that line to say that this apology is for myself and not for you, I invite you to.**

**  
Thank you for teaching me that there are peaches, but there are also tough-skinned and sour fruits that are just as important to keep your chemicals balanced. I'm choosing not to delete the reviews to remind myself of that. And I won't bite anymore, you can log in and give me constructive criticism, too; you know.**

**...in other news, if anybody cares, Fortrylle drew an awesome Spain x Romano pic which now adorns the face of deviantART, and Spazzkitty wrote me a birthday present. I'll find them later, sorry for mentioning them without giving out links.**


	23. Lost and Found

**Neee, it's been a while, huh? Hey people! Remember me? **

**Sorry to thrust this chapter upon you, but I really couldn't make it any more intelligible than it was already and I couldn't fit any more story in...**

**Just face it, nothing makes sense in this story. It's the principle of my work. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this, and I apologize for the 3 month wait. 3 MONTHS.**

**And it's a short chapter.**

**  
Damn, I'm despicable.**

--

"_Romano, are you alright?" Ludwig asked Lovino, and Antonio could see the strain of his fear beginning to show through the cracks of his stoic façade._

"_I'm fine, you stupid potato..." Spain sighed at that, Romano was tinged slightly blue and was shivering, but he probably didn't even notice._

_Antonio was ready to give Lovino another half hour if he felt up to it, but the Italian's eyes suddenly fluttered shut and he tipped over on his feet and fell face-first into the sand._

--

-----

_Lost and Found_

-----

Antonio rubbed his eyes and looked tiredly to the clock beside the bed; the bright red display read 1:37 AM and gave him a headache looking at it. He turned his gaze back to Lovino, whose hand he hadn't let go of for the past five hours.

Germany had stayed behind to search for the missing Italian, and Spain had run home as fast as he could; the other Italian in tow. Lovino's skin had been clammy to the touch, and Antonio's heart seemed to fall into his stomach, the frantic beating against his chest making him feel as though he would throw up.

Somehow, though, everything was alright. Lovino had a pulse again and was sleeping quietly, regaining body heat through the five quilts layered over his body. As he had been hurriedly taking Lovino's temperature, the Italian had come to for a moment; eyes blurry. He spoke a sentence and drifted back into unconsciousness. The question he had asked turned Antonio's stomach.

"_Chi è Lei?_"

--

33.6˚C.

Lovino's temperature had dropped to a nearly fatal low while he was under Antonio's supervision. Not only that, but Feliciano had also disappeared under his watch, and his safety was likely compromised. Antonio was understandably distraught. Medical texts were now strewn across the living room; and those with treatments for hypothermia were thoroughly scrutinized while Lovino slept.

36.9˚C.

Now if only he'd open his eyes.

--

He must have fallen asleep beside Lovino's, because all at once he was being shaken awake as the Italian demanded sustenance and that he open a window because it was "too fucking hot in here".

Spain was too busy squeezing the life out of Romano to open a window, though.

--

Antonio was still worried though. The books had mentioned lethargy as a result of hypothermia, but Lovino hadn't gotten out of bed for a good five days. Spain was more than happy to take care of Romano for as long as his unwillingness to move anywhere on his own persisted, but in doing so, he was unable to search for Italy. Which brought him to a more disturbing component of this all.

Lovino couldn't remember Feliciano.

Romano would have normally bolted out of bed in search of his missing brother as soon as he'd woken from his slumber, but the thought hadn't occurred to him. When Spain had brought it up, the other simply tilted his head and looked at him strangely.

"What are you talking about, Spain? I'm an only child."

--

The doctor said that Lovino's lethargy was a result of his exposure to the freezing water for so long, but should pass soon because he had been cared for so quickly.

"The amnesia, however," the doctor had said, was "most likely caused by trauma." The overpowering fear that he had lost his brother had wiped his memories of ever having a brother completely from his mind. Everything else seemed intact, however; which Spain was grateful for.

There remained the question though- _where is Feliciano?_

--

While Spain, England, France and America were playing cards; the answer came about unintentionally almost a month later in the form of a frantic Poland.

"Like, America, I totally need your help!"

Feliks was leaning against a support on Alfred's porch, gasping for breath; and the American stood up like the hero he was, immediately asking what was wrong.

"Liet's been kidnapped!"

There were only two people in the world that America could think of who would kidnap a nation on a whim, and one of those people was in this room, denying it with every bit of his romantic French soul. There was no other suspect.

Russia.

--

"Me? Have Lithuania? Well, if he wants to become one with Russia, I cannot stop him, da?" Spain could see Poland visibly shiver at the childlike tonality with which Russia expressed his desire to have Lithuania a part of him. "But sadly, Toris has shown no such interest. Now, if any of _you_ wish to become one with Russia..."

"No thank you, Ivan; none of us will be pursuing that path today," came a clipped reply from England, and the door closed. So where was Lithuania?

America patted Poland's shoulder apologetically, and the mood was admittedly overcast as they turned away from Russia's doorstep. "I'm really sorry about this, Feliks..."

A long skirt fluttered past following a woman approaching Russia's residence, and Poland's eyes widened. His head whipped around to follow Belarus as she approached her brother's abode and he sniffed at the air. "_Kurwa_..." He bit his lip and then turned to England. "I'm totally going to kill Natasha..."

--

Not even a half hour later, America had broken down the door to Belarus' house, revealing nothing out of the ordinary. Poland was in the building almost before the door was ripped from its hinges. "Like, Liet? Where are you?"

Poland basically motioned for everybody to shut the hell up as he listened.

_Thump_.

"Toris, I'm coming!" Feliks shot up the stairs faster than Vash could shoot a trespasser between the eyes. Spain and America followed him up; nobody knew what kind of freaky assassins Belarus could hire to protect her home.

They were in her bedroom, which was plastered with pictures of Russia, the Russian flag, lyrics to the Russian national anthem, pictures of Russia's house, the blueprints to Russia's house... Poland lifted his head, looked around and bolted towards the closet. He threw it open, and there was Lithuania. Gagged and tied up like a Christmas present.

--

"Liet, I was like, sooo worried about you; and I knew that Belarus had you because she totally smelled just like _duona_, and you're, like, the only person that I know that smells like _duona_, seriously, and..." Poland babbled on and on as he tried to cut through the ropes tying Lithuania's wrists and ankles together with one of Belarus' spare knives that she had hidden under her pillow. At the same time, Spain and America worked at the gag with a Swiss army knife.

The fabric of the gag tore apart seconds before the rope came undone, and Toris quickly spat it out, looking panicky.

"She's got Italy locked in the basement!"

-----

//_End Chapter 21_

-----

"_Chi è Lei?_" – Italian, "Who are you?"

33.6˚C is roughly 92.5˚F; not a very safe body temperature unless you're an icicle.

36.9˚C is roughly 98.4˚F; a pretty safe body temperature unless you're an icicle.

"_Kurwa_" – Polish... kinda hard to explain. Whore or bitch, but is also used as an interjection, like "Fuck!" in English? But I was going for the "bitch" translation, so...

_duona_ – a kind of dark rye bread that is a staple food in Lithuania. Smells good~

'**kay, so I'm obviously off my nut for continuing to write this, much more so for having the cojones to post it, but whatever.**

**  
Review Rangers, you know who you are.**


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